


Amber Semantics

by GoodbyesandBowties



Category: Glee
Genre: I promise it will make sense, M/M, im not trying to offend anyone, yes amber is who you think he is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-07 09:36:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10357449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodbyesandBowties/pseuds/GoodbyesandBowties
Summary: Blaine Anderson is an investigative journalist living in Chicago. One day he meets Amber, the boy with no identity.





	1. With No Answer

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have done a large amount of research into the topics that arise in this fic however it is in no way based off real life events and is entirely fictional. I don't own glee, I know right, shocker.

The house was large and grey with a darkwood panelled conservatory. Inside, he could see a man in a rocking chair. That was it. He sat quietly in the trees, milling the soil between his fingers. Occasionally he would lift an evergreen leaf and scrape the sides with his fingernails, inhaling the scent. He did not understand the concept of time but he knew it must be what was making the sky dimmer.

Then a vehicle pulled up causing the gravel to crunch beneath the tyres. He had been in one of those earlier, but it was bigger, much bigger. Only one person came out of this one and he had dark hair. He was also wearing brown dress pants, a maroon polo shirt and a hazelnut bowtie. A dark emerald blazer was fitted tightly but well to his person. His hair was a messy but organised bunch of curls and he was sporting some faded circular rimmed gold glasses.  
He carried a light tan leather satchel that matched his loafers.

The man muttered something to himself before slamming the car door and heading inside.

He left the trees, assuming that would be okay seeing as another figure was present. The car was a dark green Chevrolet El Camino. He presumed from circa 1980’s. The boy ran his soil stained fingers along the bright silver metal detailings of the car. Then he sat next to the driver door. The gravel was uncomfortable but bearable. The sky was getting even darker now, almost black. That usually meant trying to sleep. He had to wait though.

He had no idea how long he sat against the door but the front door of the house opened again and the man emerged, closing it behind him and walking through the darkness towards his car. He paused.

He stared down at the chestnut haired boy sitting in front of his car door. His skin was pale, in the most beautiful sense. He wore dark trousers and a pale green shirt, unbuttoned to just below his chest. There was a brushed leather string around his neck, a bright orange stone on the end of it, Blaine guessed it was cold against the boy’s chest. He thought it was a cool night but the sleeves of the boys shirt were rolled to his elbows, revealing bony arms. He wore leather sandals and his exposed skin was dusty, his hands tainted with soil. His hair was messy and unbrushed, also dotted with earth and sand.

He was staring right back.

Blaine was captured by the deep cerulean of his eyes.

  
“Hello”.

“Are you the driver?”.

“Excuse me?”.

“Are you the driver?”.

“I drive, yes, and this is my car”.

“Am I the only passenger?”.

“I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure I understand what you’re talking about”.

“I went to an information office, they said I could just pay you and then go”.

“What?”.

“I got in like a big vehicle and then I had to leave that so I walked here”.

“You were on a bus”.

“That’s the word, it’s like a huge car”.

“Mmhmm”.

“Yeah well can we get going?”.

“I’m not public transport, this is just a car, my car, speaking of why are you in this driveway?”.

“I told you, I walked here, it looked a bit like the last station so I figured I’d just wait like I did there and then you showed up”.

He stood up and brushed himself off, not making much of a difference.

“Oh well I’m sorry, I’m not-, I don’t work with them”.

“Oh”.

“This is a house, not a bus station or a train station or whatever”.

“Where is one?”.

“Not around here, not for miles, how far did you walk?”.

“I have no idea”.

“How old are you?”.

The boy thought hard about it, “I’ve been living for nineteen years”.

“Oh really?”, Blaine though he had looked younger but he passed for nineteen, “where are you from?”.

“Far away from here, real far. I’ve been travelling for a while”.

“How long?”.

“Long”.

“Where’s your family”.

“Back where I came here from”, the boy spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Blaine supposed it was.

“I suppose I can give you a lift, where are you going?”.

“The next stop”.

Blaine was too far in now. Journalists should never ask questions, they get much too intrigued.

Blaine opened the door and nodded to the passenger side, “you can sit in there”.

He slid in, is attention drawn to the newspapers, empty plastic bottles and random pieces of junk that littered his car floor, “I have to apologise for the mess”.

The boy shrugged.

“I’m Blaine by the way, Blaine Anderson”.

“Okay”.

“That’s my name”.

“I understand, that’s what you want me to refer to you as”.

“Well, what’s your name?”.

A look Blaine did not recognise crossed the boy’s face, a look he had never seen before now.

“You do know your name, don’t you?”, it dawned on Blaine that he may have just come across some kind of addict, possibly a boy who’d lost his memory. If he could not get a name surely he should call the police.

“Yes . . Amber”.

“Amber? That’s an unusual name, lovely but unusual”.

“Thanks”.

Blaine started up the car and reversed out of the driveway, “is that amber, by the way?”.

“What?”.

“That stone around your neck”.

“Oh”, he looked down and tapped the stone gently with his fingernail, “yes”, he whispered, “yes, I suppose it is”.

“It’s beautiful”.

“Really, I’m not sure I like it much”.

Blaine decided to concentrate on the road, for some reason turning his radio on didn’t seem appropriate. It was now fully dark. After driving silently for a while, the brighter lights of the Chicago city suburbs came into sight.

“Where are you staying?”.

“I don’t know yet”.

“It’s ten o’clock, you must know. Do you have anyone you know in Chicago”.

“Chicago”, the boy whispered, “that’s where we are”.

“Where am I taking you?”.

“I don’t know, I’ve never been here before”.

“Do you have any money?”.

“No”.

“Do you-, Amber, do you have anything?”.

He shrugged.

“You’re only nineteen Amber, are you sure you should be here?”.

“No, I mean, yes, I mean I’m an adult, right? By law?”.

“Well yes”.

“Then, you can just drop me off near somewhere . . . warm, maybe”.

Blaine sighed and pulled up. He turned to the boy on his right, “can I?”, he held out a hand.

The boy nodded.

Blaine gently rolled his sleeves down on both sides and then pulled back, brushing against the boy’s skin as he moved.

Those cerulean blue eyes watched him carefully every second. Blaine didn’t think he minded that much.

“Are you cold?”.

“Yes, you’re not. I don’t think you are. Your hand was warm”.

“You’re shivering”, Blaine whispered, leaning back in to close the buttons on the boy’s pale green shirt.

“I’ll be okay”.

“Amber, I don’t know anywhere warm that doesn’t cost money, especially at this time of night”.

“Oh”.

“Unless . . well, there’s the homeless shelter but that’s horribly overcrowded, you wouldn’t have a bed or anything?”.

“Is it warm there?”.

“It’s okay, yes but I don’t know if they’ll take you. It won’t be very comfortable”.

“I’ll be okay”.

“You-, your hands are all dirty and-”.

“I know that”, he said defensively, “I haven’t been anywhere in a few days”.

“Do you want to stay in my house?”.

Blaine had no idea why he asked that. He had no idea why he was inviting a nineteen year old who simply went by Amber to stay in his home or why he would do anything to make sure those cerulean eyes found their warmth.

“Em, okay”.

  
*****

  
Blaine watches the boy walk through his hallway, eyes bright and wonderlust. He’s tired.

“This way”, Blaine points to his staircase and Amber begins to climb. He walked slowly up the stairs, trailing his finger across the striped green and black wallpaper, usually Blaine would be frustrated at best at such slow ascent but the look in Amber's eyes fascinated him. The wall was covered in frames, he paused to look carefully at each one.

"Why don't they match?".

"The picture frames?".

He nodded.

"I don't know", Blaine shrugged, "they were all bought at different times and I suppose I never needed them to".

The frames contained one of two things, either Blaine standing with another person or people, often shaking their hand. The rest were articles, his greatest pieces from various publications. The boy did not dwell. However once he reached the top of the staircase, he frowned, "where are all the people?".

"It's only me".

"Here, it's only you here? You live here all by yourself".

"All on my lonesome", Blaine confirmed, smiling sadly to himself.

"It's like a mansion".

It wasn't. Sure, it was big for one man but Blaine could afford it. He was wealthy as things go and he'd wanted to live in more of a suburban area. The city was much too hectic. So he'd settled in a two story red brick home and he admitted the decor was on the dated side but he wasn't inclined to change it. He didn't care enough for materials to spend much money on that kind of thing.

"It's not, it's just a house really".

"I think it's incredible, all this space and it's just yours".

Blaine supposed he was lucky but then again he often wished it wasn't all his.

"I presume you'll want to shower", Blaine coughed and removed his glasses, cleaning the lenses carefully.

"I'll want to what?".

"Take a shower".

"I'm sorry, I'm not from around here so I don't quite know what you mean by that".

"It's a shower, like where you wash", a confused look on his face, Blaine realised maybe this should be funny to him but it was just too strange, "are you kidding?".

"Where you was yourself? With water?".

"Yes".

"Oh we-, I mean I've never heard that word used before".

"Are you-, Amber, where are you from exactly?".

"A remote place, I think that's it", he said quickly, "what is a shower?".

"It's like an-, well I'll show you", Blaine lead him down the landing, to the guest en suite and opened the door, "just over there", he nodded towards a white door which the boy approached slowly.

 

The bathroom light was brighter than the rest, he thought, much brighter but maybe that was contributed to by the off white tiles. Blaine pointed towards a strange looking glass chamber, he thought much more modern than the rest of the house.

"That's the shower".

"I don't know how it works", he responds warily stepping closer to the machine.

Blaine brushes against him as he leans forward and slides the door open, "it's clean I promise. You just turn that dial there to adjust the temperature and that switch turns it on, there's plenty of hot water, which just comes out of there, oh and that one adjusts the water pressure".

He's instantly confused again, "hot water? You wash with hot water?".

"Well, warm, you don't want to burn yourself either".

"Oh".

Blaine was watching him with a fascinated look on his face. He figured he should add a statement of explanation.

"I've only ever washed with cold water".

"I see", he didn't question it further, "I won't be a minute, just let me grab you some towels".

While Blaine is gone, he dares to step inside the machine, still fully clothed. The strange nozzle where the water supposedly comes from is similarly frightening.

"Oh, you're already in", Blaine tries to make a light hearted joke that neither are in a state to laugh at. He hands him two towels, both white and soft and fluffy. Blaine eyes him carefully, hesitates and the confirms, "to dry yourself".

"I knew that".

Blaine isn't so sure but he hands him three different bottles. The boy picks one up and examines it, it's purple and there's words on it but he doesn't know what they say.

"That's shower gel, like body wash and those two are shampoo and conditioner".

"What do they do?".

"They're to clean your hair, you use the shampoo first which is that one, you'll know it because it's clear and then the conditioner which is thicker and white. Just rub them into your hair and then wash them out with water".

The boy looked overwhelmed, wide eyed at the three bottles and the pile of towels in his arms.

"You okay to work the shower?".

"I, yes, I think so".

"I'm downstairs if you need me . . . Amber, seriously just call”.

“Okay”.

“And I don’t really know what you’re style is but I’ve got some things that are okay, they’re warm at least”.

Amber nodded and looked back distractedly to the shower. Blaine finds himself again examining the deep blue of his eyes and much like the ocean he’s sure he doesn’t understand half of them but he can respect the beauty. Blaine shakes his head, “I’ll leave them outside”.

He leaves the boy alone.

  
The shower is warm, it confuses him but it’s warm and he finally feels a sense of grasping safety he has not felt in a while. He massages the shampoo into his hair until it creates a thick white foam. It smells like the other man, he realises. Peppermint and lemon verbena with a hint of spice. He distracts himself by making sure it’s gone from his hair before he applies the conditioner. He wonders if the scent will stick and he hopes it does.

He realises now the surrounding glass is entirely fogged with evaporation. He opens the cap of the shower gel and gently squeezes the bottle, careful not to use much. It lathers well when mixed with the water that runs off his skin and drizzles to the shower floor, earlier it had been a pale brown but the fact that it was clean now told him that he was too.

He lifted his fingers to the thin pink ridged skin that portrayed his scars like a piece of garish art no one was actually intending to pay money for. It was tender there. The sensation on his back was similarly strange as water hurried through the cracks and fresher wounds. It burned but was strangely relieving. He washed the conditioner out of his chestnut locks, his hair was a little longer than he normally had it, he knew by touch. Once he turned the shower off he immediately wished to be encased again in the heat of the running water. However that would be wasteful, he had been wasteful enough he supposed.

Blaine sorted through his clothes. He wanted to give Amber something nice and he didn’t know why. He knew that the boy was inches taller and he had to find something that fitted. He settled on loose grey sweatpants that he thought were cosy and a hooded woolen jumper. He left them into the guest bedroom, laying them carefully on the quilted fabric.

He went downstairs and sat himself down at the table in his kitchen after he closed the blinds, picking his satchel up from the kitchen floor and sliding his laptop out. He briefly scrolled through his emails. Nothing exciting, suspicious death just west of LaSalle. He figured that would do if he couldn’t find something more interesting. Then he sighed and opened a new tab, clicking on the search bar and entering the single word.

‘ _Amber_ ’

All that came up was the meanings of the stone and where it could be found, where it comes from. Another thing he did not understand about Amber. Many things, he suspected.

Blaine’s staircase was old and creaky and he was shocked when the boy appeared at his door, having silently descended from his room. Blaine paused, his expression a strange mix of apprehension and wonderment. He looked simply statuesque, his hair damp, falling around his face in a tangle of unbrushed locks. His pale skin flush from the heated water and a look on his face that Blaine thought might be what cute meant.

“Hi”, he said quietly.

Blaine jumped up, “tea? Tea is warm, do you want tea?”.

“I, uh, I might, I’ve never tasted it. Don’t waste it on me, maybe”.

“It’s not wasting it, it’s there anyway. Apparently it’s trendy to gift people fancy tea’s. I have pretty much anything you can think of, rose and peppermint and eucalyptus and lemon, oh what about chamomile? That’s supposed to be calming, right? I’ll boil some water and I guess you can consider your options, not that you can’t change your mind”.

“You say an awful lot of things”.

“I do sometimes, yes”, Blaine laughed softly, “maybe I’m nervous”.

“Do I make you nervous?”.

“Well, I know very little about you”.

“I promise I won’t do anything, hurt you I mean”.

Blaine nodded and turned around to boil some water. He didn’t really drink tea but he strangely felt that the boy would not have any if he didn’t and he thought it might help him.

“Were you trying to research me?”.

“Oh shit, yeah, crap well I just wanted to see if anything came up”.

“I think maybe I’m the last thing that would come up underneath that word”, he pulled the sleeves down over his hands and clenched them into fists, “thank you for the clothes, they’re very comfortable”.

Blaine noticed that the brushed leather string holding the small, cantaloupe coloured stone was still hanging there or he presumed it was by the bump beneath the cable knit, “you’re welcome, I suppose you’ll want some of your own but hopefully they’ll do for now. How, tell me, does a person know what a computer is and not what a shower is?”.

“Oh, the lady at one of the centres I stopped at to try figure a route out helped me on one and I asked her a few questions”.  
“Would you like to sit?”, Blaine sat back down in his own chair and signalled to the one nearest the boy. He sat down.

“Amber”, Blaine closed his laptop and continued hesitantly, “why is it, that you don’t know what things are?”.

“I was never told”, he replied after a minute, “I never needed to”.

“Why?”.

“I can’t answer that, I have nothing I would say”.

Blaine thought his way of speaking was bizarre but like many of the things he’d witnessed in the past six hours, it intrigued him.

Curiosity killed the cat, Anderson, Blaine reminded himself. Hopefully that was not in the literal sense and he hadn’t just invented an excellent actor and serial killer into his home.

“I’ll just make the tea”, he turned around but he felt the pair of bright blue eyes staring at him, “did you um, decide on what type you want, even if it’s just normal tea”.

“The calming one, I guess, chamomile is it?”.

Blaine nodded, “yeah sure, I think I’ll have that one too”.

He pulled two mismatching china mugs out of his cupboard and filled each with boiled water. Then he lowered a tea bag in to steep before carrying them to the table, “here you go”.

“Thank you”.

The eyes moved from Blaine to the steaming mug if clear hot herbal tea that by the smell, Blaine knew probably tasted disgusting.

“It’s hot”, he whispered,

“Yes, yes it is”.

“Can I ask you a question?”.

“I suppose you’ll want to if you’re going to sleep here”.

“I . . well maybe that’s it yes, I figured I was just being nosy”.

“You’re allowed to be, open book right here”, he smiled but realised the expression was not understood by the other party of conversation, “yes, ask as many as you’d like”.

“How many years have you been alive?”.

“Twenty five, I mean I am twenty five”.

He nodded and Blaine suddenly felt like maybe Amber thought he was being inappropriate.

“I’m not trying to take advantage of you, just so you know”.

“I know”, he seemed shocked at the suggestion, “why would you think that?”.

“Just because I’m older, a little older and I invited you here and we just met and I’m just not and I’d rather you be comfortable”.

“You don’t know me. You don’t need me to be comfortable”.

“But I’d like you to be”.

“Either way, I don’t think there’s much wrong with having an age difference, when you’re adults and okay with it, especially a small one like that”.

Blaine wanted to punch himself for the pang of hope that hit his chest when those words left the boys rosy lips. He shook it off, just a passing comment.

Amber lifted the mug and put it too his lips before taking a sip. He closed his eyes with the relief and comfort it brought him, “Blaine, do you remember you said to ask if I needed anything”.

“Yes”.

“I haven’t eaten in awhile”.

“God, of course”. Blaine felt a little stupid that it had never occurred to him and confused as to why that mattered.

“It’s okay . . it’s really fine if you have things to do, even-”.

“No, you’re clearly starving”.

The boy could not deny that his stomach ached with hunger, having simply eaten scraps he found in bins over the passing days.

“I’m not much of a cook”, Blaine laughed half heartedly, “I suppose something hot might be helpful”, he began to search through his cupboards, “em, I have baked beans and I can make toast and heat up, some hash browns. Sorry that’s very brown, lack of nutrition but I doubt you’re in the market for a salad?”.

He blinked and then a soft smile met his lips and Blaine thought it was one of the most brilliant things he had ever seen before he checked himself and nodded, “is that okay?”.

“That’s perfect”.

Blaine wasn’t exactly sure if he should speak to the boy at his kitchen table while he poured some beans into a saucepan over his stove but the silence was getting awkward. Asking questions to the boy with no answers was not an easy job, not that he’d expected it to be. However Amber was silently sipping his tea and watching what Blaine was doing.

“You’re very kind”, he said suddenly.

“Hmm?”, Blaine coughed, his thoughts often ended up embarrassing him.

“You don’t know me and you’re going out of your way to be so nice”.

“I don’t think I’d do this normally, in fact I considered just calling the police or something and then I thought maybe I could give you a hundred dollars-”.

“But you didn’t”, the boy was looking at him with a stare of pure curiosity as if a human could not be so generous.

“Well no, I don’t think you’re going to do anything and I have the space and who knows? Maybe we can be friends”.

“Friends?”.

“Yeah, that’s what I hope for anyway, you seem like a cool guy”.

“I do?”.

“Yeah, I’ll be the first to admit you thinking my car was public transport is an excellent ‘how we met’ story, don’t you think?”.

“I suppose it is”.

“Plus, as you mentioned upstairs, I’m here all by myself. Having someone might be nice actually, it can get lonely”.

“But you have lots of friends”.

“No, not really, I have some but not many. What makes you think I’d have lots of friends?”.

“All those pictures on the stairs”.

“Oh no, none of those are my friends, I wish. They’re people I meet through work, politicians and leaders and philanthropists and all kinds of people really”.

“Oh”.

Blaine nodded and slid some whole wheat bread from the packet to toast. He popped them in and turned back, lifting his mug off the table and to his face. Suddenly his glasses were foggy with steam and the room was infiltrated by the sound of alluring giggles. Now Blaine was laughing too as he took his glasses off and cleaned them on the edge of his fabric tablecloth.

“That’s why I like takeway, you get those little plastic lids”.

He liked how he’d caused the creases on pale skin to crumple in laughter and the bright sapphire eyes he was privileged enough to look into to glow with a shiny amusement that maybe made his heart skip a beat.

“Hold on, before I burn these beans”.

Blaine spooned the baked beans onto the plate alongside the toast and the hash browns before placing it on the table, “bon appetite, what do you like on your toast?”.

“Em, I was really only ever given dry toast”.

“Hold on”, he was rummaging through cupboards again, “my mom would kill me if she were here, she always made us have marmalade or jam on toast which is jam packed with sugar anyway”, he sighed, “my brother likes peanut butter but I don’t like it melted”, he paused and sighed at himself, “not that you asked”.

Another shy smile.

“Anyway”, Blaine continued, proudly producing a jar, “Nutella is where it’s at”.

“What’s that?”.

“Oh my lord, if I thought you’d been deprived before imagine how I feel right now? Nutella is your basic human right, It’s all chocolate hazelnutty goodness that just melts in your mouth and well, it’s orgasmic”.

Amber didn’t know what that word meant but he didn’t care as for now.

Blaine sat down across from him and lifted his tea again, cooler now, he took a sip and forced himself to swallow, “yeah, no, still awful”.

“I like it”.

Blaine noticed that his whole mug was empty and slid his own across, “help yourself”.

“Really?”.

“If you can stomach the stuff”.

He accepted the mug gratefully, “thank you”.

“Nothing to thank me for, there’s plenty more where that came from. I certainly won’t drink it”.

Blaine noticed that he was still staring at the food.

“Tuck in”.

“Oh, I don’t have to-”, he stopped himself and lifted a fork.

“Don’t have to what?”.

“No, nothing, it’s not important”.

“What if you do have to?”, Blaine joked spurred by his own damned curiosity.

Suddenly a serious expression spread across the opposite man’s face, serious but sad, “I doubt that Blaine, I really doubt that”.

And Blaine found himself desperate for answers as to what had happened here? As to why finding out meant so much to him and why this person he didn’t know meant so much to him? He wanted to stand up and beg for answers, to scream ‘Who hurt you?”.

No. Not scream. That would scare him. He would never ever want to scare him.  
Blaine had the feeling he had been frightened enough.

He ate the food shockingly quickly. It had been confirmed, the boy had been starving.

While he was eating the toast, he informed Blaine that he approved of the topping and Blaine grinned. Then he grabbed a teaspoon and heaped it with the dark brown spread.

“You just eat it on it’s own”.

“You must allow yourself the simple pleasures in life”, Blaine said licking the remnants from the spoon.

Amber giggled softly.

Blaine dug his spoon into the jar again and sighed. Nutella at two in the morning with a cute boy. Maybe life wasn’t all that bad.  
If you discount the fact that they had met in impossible circumstances, he had no last name and Blaine guessed he was moving in now.

“So, do you want anything else?”.

“No”, he drank the final remnants of tea and set the mug on the kitchen table, “that was lovely. Thank you”.

“I don’t have to work tomorrow until like lunch time so we can talk more about everything then. I guess you’re pretty tired”.

The boy nodded, “I haven’t slept in a while”, he considered his words, “not properly”.

“Why don’t you turn in then?”, Blaine’s voice was gentle and warming.

“Thank you” he nodded but when he stood up, he just looked around awkwardly.

“You know where your room is?”.

“My room?”.

“Where you showered”.

“But that’s . . .”.

“My spare room, where you’re staying”.

“I am?”.

“Yeah?”.

“Oh, right thank you”, Amber picked up his plate and carried it to the kitchen sink.

Blaine left his seat immediately, “god, no you must let me do that, really . . Amber, you’re, well you’re tired”.

He was wide eyed. Blaine stared back.

“Thank you, are you sure?”.

“I’m positive”.

“Thank you Blaine, really, thank you for everything”.

Blaine nodded curtly. The boy was gone, Blaine did not hear his footsteps on the stairs or as they crossed the rickety floorboards of his landing. He didn’t hear the switch turn the lights off and he also missed the gentle sobbing silence that occurred.

Blaine retired to his living room where he figured he should actually get done what was originally on his to-do list. He switched on the TV and found a channel that was repeating the news at this time of night, turning the volume to a quiet setting so not to disturb his guest.

He pulled his laptop onto his crossed legs and clicked through to reply to Santana. He read over her email again.

**(9:06 P.M)**  
**Re: I need a fucking story Anderson**  
**We don’t have a hell of a lot but there was a suspicious death just west of LaSalle, looks like a murder but we don’t know. I called Finn up and he said you can meet him in the station at around one tomorrow if you want to look into it, your call on whether it’s worth it or not. Either way, call into me at some point. We’re trying to get some sort of feature together, something exciting. Brainstorm sesh tomorrow with Chang, be there.**

**(2:16 A.M)**  
**Re: Patience is a virtue**  
**Hey, I’ll go to the station and make a call as to whether or not it’s something I want to do. I’ll be there after but I can’t work late. See you then.**

He watched the usual stories, if only Blaine had gone for broadcast journalism, it always looked so much easier. He turned from channel to channel before settling on a documentary about the Salem Witch Trials. It wasn’t his favourite topic but it would keep him entertained. He listened half heartedly while scrolling through Twitter.

*****

_The bus pulled up right where the woman had told him it would, emitting a soft chug. He boarded, handing the driver the set amount of money._

_“How long until Chicago?”._

_“About eight hours, it’s my last stop”._

_The blue eyed boy nodded and made his way to the back of the vehicle, sliding into a seat two from the rear. He slouched down and shoved his hands into his empty pockets, curling into himself and trying to fall asleep._

_The driver peered back at the strangely dressed man with dusty hair and sad eyes. He wondered where his belongings were and then thought that it was quite possible had none. He thought the boy must be cold but left it there._

_Three hours later, Amber woke in darkness, a few other passengers had joined the bus. He sighed and wrapped thin arms around himself, feeling weak and hazy and much too tired to have slept but sleeping was scarier sometimes than staying awake._

_His dreams were where they could still find him._


	2. Hold In The Change

Chapter 2

Blaine Anderson didn’t sleep well, he was lucky to get four hours most of the time. Blaine had been cursed with a brain that never stopped thinking and the definition of lie-in for him was just continuing to lie in bed for hours rather than resting his brain.

Eventually he decided to get up, it was only seven which was much too early usually for Blaine to go downstairs but the memories of last night somehow inspired him to stand up and face another day.

At first he thought nothing of the fact that the guest room door was now closed.

That was, until, he saw the the boy sitting at his kitchen table. He jumped to his feet in an almost military fashion.

"Good morning".

"Morning, you're up early, aren't you?", he smiled and rubbed his eyes.

"I suppose".

"Been up long?".

"Yes, it's just what I'm used to", he shrugged.

Blaine couldn't help but think this was something from a movie. His hair was messy, falling over his face and his eyes were shiny but sleepy. He had the sleeves of a hoodie that Blaine had left in to him pulled down over his fisted hands. The morning sunlight that shone through the windows truly made him appear angelic.

Blaine was staring again.

Amber crossed his arms self consciously.

"Eh, um, breakfast, shall we?".

"That would be really nice".

"How did you sleep?", Blaine turned the kitchen radio on to a low volume. The low buzzing had always made his mornings less lonely.

"Okay", he replied softly, "would you like some help?".

"No", Blaine insisted, "I'll manage, you a bagel man?".

"Maybe".

A smile reached Blaine's lips again because this man was impossibly cute. He supposed Amber looked at him as someone who was short a few brain cells, inviting random people to live in his house.

He cut two bagels in half and put them in the toaster before switching his kettle on to boil. He turned up the radio and hummed along quietly to the song while he grabbed two mugs

" _What's the story morning glory_?", he sang and it made Amber smile which made him glad he'd done it.

"Do you like Oasis?".

"He found an oasis and God told him seek home, there is promise in the waters", Amber muttered before frowning, "I don't think I understand the context".

Blaine chose to ignore what he'd said at first but made a mental note of it, "they're a band and this is their song".

"Oh no, I don't really know any bands".

Blaine nodded, he hadn't really expected him to. He took two mismatched plates out of a cupboard and dropped two bagel halves on each, "I will presume you don't have a favourite bagel topping either . . Amber?".

Amber shook his head.

Blaine spread a layer of butter on each which instantly began to melt before sprinkling them with a generous amount of cinnamon sugar, "you're allowed to tell me if you hate it", he grinned.

Amber was secretly wondering if he ever even brushed the wild tangle of curls that sat on top of his head.

He was hit with the smell of melting butter and cinnamon sugar as Blaine placed the bagel in front of him.

"Hold on, tea, coffee, juice?".

"Em, juice if you have it".

"I do. I have lots of it actually, funny story, when I was younger we were never allowed juice because my mom thought it contributed to our permanent hyper state so now I just bought it all the time. Maybe that's not that funny", Blaine frowned.

"You say lots of things", Amber smiled slightly, "I think it's funny".

"I appreciate that, most people just tell me to shut up, you're welcome to tell me to shut up", he grabbed a carton, "oh wait that's milk. This is what happens when I don't have my glasses on".

"I like your glasses", Amber said suddenly, "the gold ones".

"Thank you, my friend Mike thinks they look hilarious. He claims they're the most hipster thing in the world, maybe he's right".

Amber didn't know what hipster meant, "I like them", he repeated, "there's, um, there's little bits of gold in your eyes like flecks or something I think and they kind of match", he blushed furiously all of a sudden, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that".

"No", Blaine was strangely breathless, "yes, no, definitely no. You should have, it's a compliment. People like compliments".

"I know but you don't know me so me looking at your eyes probably isn't okay".

"It's okay", Blaine stumbled a little on his own words, "it's very okay, not that you have to. Anyway, juice, I have orange and apple and what's that one? . . . ah, cranberry?".

"Cranberry, just because I've never heard of it", Amber said and then he sank back into his seat as if saying one sentence with confidence had been too much.

"No, no I guess you haven't. I'll be honest, I'm not a cranberry person but my friend Santana likes to make Cosmopolitans sometimes so I always have it around. She's my boss as well technically but", he paused, "that is besides the point Blaine".  
He poured some into a glass and handed it to Amber before sitting down with his own mug of black coffee.

Amber bit into the warm bagel and chewed thoughtfully before swallowing, "it's really good".

"You like it?".

"Yeah I really do, it's very sweet".

Blaine laughed, "I'm what they call a sugar whore but I will make sure to even yours out a little next time".

They ate in silence, listening to the soft droning of the radio. Blaine sang along sometimes and then he'd shut himself up.

Amber thought his voice was really nice, even when he was just making up the lyrics.

"I have a question".

"Yes?".

"Why do you have a swing set?", Amber was peering out across the wide back garden where there stood a slightly rusty primary coloured swing set.

"I think the people who lived here before me had grandchildren and they used to come and stay here. They left a few things behind because the woman died and her husband left, I don't really know why.. I never felt compelled to get rid of it".

Amber nodded. It made him happy to think there were children who went to stay with their grandparents and played on rusty swing sets.

"I have to work today", Blaine said suddenly.

"Okay".

"I have to go check out a site and then I have a brainstorming thing in the office for a feature".

"Can I come?".

"What?".

"It's okay if you don't want me to, I just don't really want to sit here by myself all day".

Blaine knew he was lucky he worked a job where he could decide his own hours on the most part. He could probably bring a remarkable nineteen year old along with him and have little questions asked if he left out the fact of his arbitrary decision to invite said nineteen year old to live with him indefinitely.

"No. Yes, you can come. There's no harm in it, I'm sure".

"Oh great. I'll go get ready".

 

*****

 

"Finn Hudson", Blaine called, "fancy seeing you here".

Amber watched as the tall detective turned around and smiled at the man with too high a jump in his step.

Blaine was wearing navy pants today with a mustard coloured polo shirt that had thin black and white parallel lines at the edge of the collar. He was also sporting a warm black jacket. Amber could tell he'd tried to do something to his hair but it was still impossibly tangled. He placed a hand on the crossbody strap of his satchel and fixed his glasses before grinning back at Finn.

"I have an apprentice with me today Finn, this is Amber".

"Hi", Finn looked a little surprised at the name but continued as normal, "no better man to learn from than the best journalist in the business. I'm a head detective and Blaine's solved more cases than I have".

"That's not true", Blaine shook his head and pulled a pen our of his pocket and a small notebook from the front sector of his satchel, "give me what you got".

"Honestly Blaine, this story's not your thing, I'd give it to a junior writer, we reckon it coincides with the gangs that you did your drugs feature on last year but it's not a big story".

"Why's it a 'suspected murder' then?".

"Because no witness have come forward and the guy had a gun in his hand that matched the bullet in his head. It's a suicide or a set up. A murder makes sense but we need the proof".

Blaine nodded, "makes sense for the area", he took his phone out and quickly dialled before pressing the device to his ear, "hi Rory? Yeah I have a story for you . . . . Remember that story I did last year when you were on your internship, the drug feature . . . I got a follow up story, you wanna take it? . . . . Great, Finn Hudson's down here on LaSalle. Be speedy about it, my friend, he's a busy man . . . . I'll catch you later".

He shoved his phone back into the bag and shot Finn a smile, "junior writer it is. He'll be with you in twenty. Make sure he asks questions".

"If he spent any time with you Blaine, he'll know to never shut up".

 

*****

"Hey Blaine", Tina smiled from behind the counter and leaned forward, "the usual?".

"Yes please Tina, Amber, what're you having?".

He looked surprised, "I, um, I don't know".

"Let's go for a nonfat mocha", Blaine said thoughtfully.

"What size?".

"Grande please Tina".

"Can I grab your name?", she smiled at Amber.

He couldn't help but notice how pretty she was and that she had a smile that made him smile back without thinking about it,"Amber".

"I like it", she replied and scrawled it on the cup, "Noah, Blaine's usual and-", she handed him the second cup, "a nonfat mocha for his friend".

"Ah", Puck smirked brashly at Blaine, "his friend".

"Shut it Puckerman", he paid and then dropped a dollar into the tip jar before he stepped back to let the woman behind them order.

A moment or two later, Noah placed two steaming takeway cups on the order surface, "orders up, have a good day Blaine", he paused", you too, Amber".

"Thanks".

"He's cute", Noah whispered once Amber had taken his cup and stepped away.

"Goodbye Noah".

Blaine turned to Amber, "go on. Tell me what you think. I have a talent for sensing people's coffee orders".

Amber looked down thoughtfully at the cup and lifted the hit liquid, sipping slowly.

His eyes went wide, "it's amazing".

"And that my friend, is the beginning of what will be a long and possibly turbulent relationship with caffeine".

From there, they walked to the offices, a tall multistory building with majority windows instead of walls. They walked into a lobby where Blaine waved at the two women sitting behind reception who flashed him smiles resembling a dental care advertisement.

Blaine swiped his card allowing him to open a door and walk through a huge room filled with cubicles and messy desks. One wall was lined entirely with filing cabinets.

Amber kept his head down but he could hear all of the ' _hi Blaine_ 's, ' _what's up man'_ s and '' _morning Anderson_ 's.

Blaine pushed open a door to a separate room that was smaller, a single open plan office with a desk, a six seat table, a small stack of spare chairs and four huge bookcases. It was carpeted and smelled like an office was expected to smell but with a touch of Blaine. Amber tried to silence the voice that was asking what Blaine was exactly.

Almost every surface was littered with papers or empty mugs, pens, pencils, photographs, notebooks and folders. The bookcases were full of books and files and stacks of paper were piled around the room.

Blaine pulled his jacket off and threw it across the back of his desk chair, "this is my office. It's nothing fancy but most of us only have a cubicle out there so I'm really happy with it".

"It's nice, I like it a lot. I actually think it's a little it wonderful".

Blaine could've sworn his soft, strange way of speaking was what defined his sexuality in that moment.

"Thanks. Now I have a meeting but you can hang in here. There's plenty of bathrooms around the place and there's a kitchen across the hall from the main story space, that's what we call . . out there, I suppose", he chuckled and shoved his hands into his pockets, "I'll be in Santana's office which is just two doors down from this office, you'll probably here someone shouting inside", he joked, "anyway make yourself at home. Feel free to use the computer".

"It's okay Blaine, I'll just think for a little while".

Blaine stood there awkwardly. He didn't want to leave Amber for some reason but he also knew Santana would fling out an open office window if he was any later, "right".

"Okay".

"Okay then", Blaine was having a serious conversation later with his mother as to why he was like this , "don't have too much fun".

Why an earth had he said that? Where was the complimentary office black hole that would swallow him whole right now?

He closed the door firmly behind him, trying to ignore how quickly his heart was beating.  
As Blaine had expected, Santana was in a mood.

"Where the hell have you been Blaine Anderson?".

Mike was grinning from where he was perched on the windowsill.

"I was down with Finn".

She looked at the coffee in his hand, "you were feeding your addiction. Now you're lucky Michael has a story because I need to keep these readers. We're already losing people every day to the Internet, I need to capture even more attention".

"Michael does and it's good", Mike jumped down and grabbed a bunch of papers that were being held together by a paper clip and a marker.

Blaine sat down on Santana's desk and she leaned against the wall, crossing her arms, "show us what you've got".

Every year since they'd become colleagues Blaine and Mike had found killer stories, they'd made their way up in the paper to the top of the food chain as the lead investigative journalists. They had at least two or three huge features a year as well as the usual stories. A few months ago they'd done a piece on an illegal set of brothels running across fourteen states. There was the occasional solo piece but they worked better together, becoming known locally as ' _The Dream Team_ '.

"So I've been researching things we haven't done yet, you know the drill and I come across an unsolved case from thirteen years ago. So this kid goes missing in Delaware on the first of January sixteen days after his sixth birthday. No trace, they can't find him anywhere but he's gone. Then on the first of February another kid goes missing in Virginia, sixteen days after her sixth birthday. No one made the connection however they disappeared is similar ways and there was no trace of them anywhere".

Mike uncapped the marker and turned to the white board, "so let me lay it out. This is the order in which the total ten children disappeared".

Blaine and Santana watched as he scrawled a list of dates, names and states on the board.

**January 1st / Delaware / David Karofsky**   
**February 1st / Virginia / Marley Rose**   
**March 1st / Virginia / Dani Everett**   
**April 1st / Ohio / Ryder Lynn**   
**May 1st / Ohio / Kitty Wilde**   
**June 1st / Ohio / Kurt Hummel**   
**July 1st / Wyoming / Chandler Kiehl**   
**August 1st / Wyoming / Lucy Fabray**   
**September 1st / Wyoming / Rachel Berry**   
**October 1st / Wyoming/ Sunshine Corazón**

"Each and every one of them went missing exactly sixteen days after their sixth birthday consecutively within a month of each other and not one of them was ever found or seen again".

Blaine stood up, eyebrows furrowed and crossed his arms, "any other connections?".

"Kind of", Mike sighed, "I've been looking into this for a few months but I was reluctant to show it to you because I know it's damn near impossible to find this kind of missing person and even if we get information, they won't be alive".

"What are the connections?".

"They all had something going on at home, Davids mother had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, Marley Rose's father walked out and her mother became morbidly obese, Dani's sister was in a juvenile detention centre, Ryder was having serious learning difficulties and getting bullied, Kitty Wilde's brother was in conversion therapy, Kurt's mother had cancer and he was getting bullied", he read them off one of the sheets almost militarily as if he had learned the whole thing off, "Chandler Kiehl's father went bankrupt and they lost their house. Lucy's dad was reported to be an alcoholic, child protective services were looking into her welfare, Rachel Berry was harassed because her parents are a gay couple and Sunshine Corazón's father had just passed away".

"That's something".

"It's far from enough", Santana added and Mike sighed.

"It's something and we can work with it. I like the story, it has my interest and it's a mystery I want to solve. We can't just let these kids be forgotten about", Blaine decided.

"I agree", Mike took his seat on the windowsill again, "I wanna run the story. Something about it just feels right".

"Santana, Mike and I have been told we can't solve things enough times to know that we can. We can do this, just give us the time".

"Listen boys I know when you get your mind set on an idea, I don't have a chance of stopping you. I'll give you the feature but you have to understand there's a time limit".

Mike and Blaine smiled at each other.

"What else do you have?".

Mike fumbled through the papers on his laps, "I have photographs of them all, parental statements, ideas both by the police, experts and conspiracy theorists. The police shut down the investigation as each of them turned eighteen however they're parents are still searching. Berry's fathers organised a meeting between the parents once the ties between the children were recognised and they met twelve years ago. Apparently they're all still in contact. There's hundreds of videos of them on the news, begging for people to help. Apparently they're still a tight knit community, still trying".

"Let's see the photographs".

Mike had a picture of each child age six and a police sketch of how they were estimated to look on their eighteenth birthdays.

David Karofsky was a strong looking child with very short brown hair and simple features. Blaine could tell he would've been a football player.  
Marley Rose had longer brown hair and a pretty face, she appeared to be one of those shy kids who didn't speak much to anyone and believed in fairies more than herself.  
Dani was a beautiful child, one that most parents would love to have but her own didn't seem to realise that. She was holding a guitar that was much too big for her.  
Ryder was cute and goofy looking, with bright eyes, the kind of kid who would much rather hang out with his mom than play kickball.  
Kitty Wilde was clearly born to be the centre of attention, blonde hair falling in a delicate plait at one side of her head.  
Chandler Kiehl's glasses were so big they took up half of his face but he looked happy.  
Lucy Fabray looked much too tired for a girl her age but also terribly proud of the rose patterned dress she wore.  
Rachel Berry looked confident and ready to take on absolutely any challenge that came her way. She had three meddles around her neck and a trophy in either hand.  
Sunshine had a smile that matched her name, she was short even for a six year old and hugging a huge brown dog.

"Where's Kurt Hummel?".

"Good question", Mike frowned, "I had his pictures this morning", he rummaged through his bag.

"Is it important?", Santana sighed, "we can get them later".

Blaine shrugged, "yeah, I suppose-".

"Found them", Mike produced two slightly crumpled sheets of paper stapled together, "here".

Blaine stared at the picture of a beaming six year old boy, sitting on a porch step with whom, Blaine presumed was his mother holding a miniature teacup that Kurt was pouring imaginary liquid into.

He felt like he recognised that face, what was it? He looked quickly at the police sketch and it hit him like a train. His eyes moved back to the photograph and the deep cerulean blue of the boys eyes. Blaine couldn't miss the ocean that filled each iris.

"Blaine, are you alright?".

"No", he whispered, eyes darting between the photo and the sketch, "I'm not".

"What's going on".

"It's Kurt. Kurt Hummel's sitting in my office".

 

Amber had no idea who the hell this woman was but she'd walked in and hadn't shut up since.

"I say, Blaine do you need me to go out and get you pictures? He tells me no, he insists he's good and then last minute I get, Mrs Jones, can you run down to here there and everywhere to get me a shot? And now I'm standing here trying to give him the photographs he ordered and all I find is some fourteen year old white boy who looks confused. No offence".

"I'm nineteen . . years old if that's what you mean".

"I'm sorry, you are just too cute", she smiled, "now what are you doing here?".

"I'm Blaine's friend".

"What's your name?".

"Amber".

"Well, ain't that just the strangest name for a boy? It's beautiful though, real unique".

"Thank you", he replied. He liked her, he liked the smile in her voice and the audaciousness in her words.

The office door burst open suddenly and Amber and Mercedes looked over to where Blaine was standing with Mike and Santana. He took off his glasses and wiped them on the hem of his polo shirt before replacing them, "eh hi . . Mercedes, you're here".

"I need you to approve these photographs for your latest story".

She stood up and handed him the prints, before shooting the others a confused look, "are y'all on some kind of mission?".

Mike was staring, open mouthed at the boy at the desk and Santana was looking between him and the sketch in her hand.

"They're perfect Mercedes", he said distractedly after flicking through them briefly, "you can submit them".

"Alright then, whatever", she sighed and looked back at the desk, "bye Amber, you have a nice day sweetie".

"Amber", Santana repeated and Mike looked at Blaine who shook his head at his friend and colleague.

"Hey Amber, can I talk to you for a minute?".


	3. Something That Makes Sense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want you all to know how much I genuinely appreciate the support you. Thank you for reading this fic, it's been my own personal 'passion piece' for a while and sharing it is amazing. Thank you.

Blaine had no idea what made him do what he did but he snatched the pieces of paper from Santana and shoved them into his pocket.

"What's going on?", Amber asked, clearly not just confused but overwhelmed.

"Nothing. We wanted to know if you wanted a sandwich".

"Oh. What's a sandwich?".

"Why doesn't he know what a sandwich is?", Mike whispered.

"He just doesn't", Blaine replied, "of course he doesn't. No problem, I'll be back in a few minutes".

"Wait", Santana said quickly, "what's your name?".

The boy swallowed and looked at Blaine, "Amber".

"Oh, okay, is that it?".

"Yes that's what I'm called".

"You heard him, that's his name".

"Right", she replied.

"Come on", Blaine nudged them both firmly out of the room, "Mercedes?".

She was standing against a cubicle partition and chatting to Unique Adams who Blaine had never seen eye to eye with just because he didn't see the need in precious black and whites being taken up by the advice of a charismatic agony aunt.

She obviously disagreed.

"What?", she shot him a look.

"I need you to do something for me, can you keep Amber company?".

"Mercedes was telling me you're hoarding a man in your office", Unique winked, knowing it would annoy him, "it's about time you got some action".

"Look, can you two just go in and keep him company please?".

"I'm working".

"You're gossiping and the drivel you spout in that column can wait. He's here for good reason", Blaine looked back at his closed office door and muttered, "apparently".

"Listen", Santana interrupted, "both of you get into that goddamn office and keep the boy company but don't fish, he's not . . just don't ask questions".

Blaine nodded and both women moved, walking towards Blaine's office with reluctant expressions.

"Hey Blaine, can you read over my column?".

"Yes Jeff", he sighed, "email it to me and I'll tell you what I think".

"Thanks so much", the blond haired man grinned. He was relatively new to the paper and his black dress pants were a little on the large side. He was wearing an awful lilac shirt that was again, too baggy and a blue and purple tie, the kind of thing a high school student wears to a job interview he really needed, "I'm really happy with this one, I even went down to the courthouse and talked to Judge Davis. I, uh, I heard you gave Rory a story earlier, if you ever want me to do anything then just give me a shout. I'd really-".

"Yeah, okay Jeff I'll let you know. Listen we've just had a lead, Mike and I so we should really keep going".

"Oh. Okay then, yeah, of course".

"I'll see you around".

Jeff perked up again at that, "yeah, I look forward to it"

They returned to Santana's office.

"Holy shit Blaine, what the hell is he doing here?".

"He's a friend, I just met him and god it all makes sense. He has no idea what things are and how everything works".

"You have to let me talk to him", Mike shook his head, "this is insane. Where are the pictures?".

"No, I've seen all kinds of documentaries. We can't show him that yet, it'll mess him up. It's like a psychiatry thing".

"So what do we do?".

"I don't know, call the cops I suppose but he'll run if we tell him and we can't just surprise him surely, I'd lose his trust. I can't do that", Blaine didn't know why the trust of a nineteen year old he'd met less than twenty four hours ago meant so much all of a sudden but it just did and that was something he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to explain.

"We can't hoard a missing person", Santana hissed.

"We're not hoarding him, he's an adult. I just don't think he's ready for police", Blaine was beginning to panic now, "I'll talk to him, slowly. I'll make sure he's comfortable. I'll check the situation and then we can work out the next step".

"We need to move fast".

"I know".

 

 

This was only slightly frustrating, Blaine frowned. They had been sitting alone in his office for twenty minutes now. A pair of cerulean blue eyes were doing everything in their power not to make eye contact with him.

"Amber, I'm doing this for you. What happened?".

"I don't know what you're talking about Blaine, I'm not sure how I could possibly answer your question".

"Amber", Blaine leaned in and took his glasses off, "I need to know where you've been".

"How do you know I've been anywhere?".

Blaine knew he had to do this tactfully, not just to get the answers he needed but to maintain trust.

"Amber, where were you born?".

He knew straight away that was the right question. The boys lip trembled slightly before he bit it and looked back at Blaine, "I don't know, probably where I've always lived".

"Amber, I need you to tell me what your earliest memory is".

He thought hard about that, "I-, I remember sitting out on the pasture and I was making a daisy chain and I was thinking-, I was thinking about Quinn", he said quietly as if he was telling Blaine a secret that he was embarrassed about.

"Whose Quinn?".

"She was my, um, my sister I suppose and one day she said we would get married but we were only children".

"Your sister, she said you were going to get married?".

"That happened, yes", he confirmed, "she said that".

"Why were you thinking about her?".

"She was in trouble. They took her away. She asked us to call her Quinn, that wasn't her proper name so when our mother found out, she took her to the house and I didn't see her for months but that's besides the point I suppose".

"What age were you?".

"I think about six".

"You don't remember a thing before then?".

"No", he replied, his eyes not focusing on anything as if he'd just realised something, "not a thing".

"Amber, what were you doing in this memory, apart from thinking?".

"I was making a daisy chain, I thought I could give it to Quinn when she came back, sorry Emerald, that was her name. We weren't allowed to call her Quinn. I told you that . . .", he trailed off and glanced at Blaine, "I told my mother it was for her, for Emerald when she returned and she-", his breathing got much faster, he swallowed quickly.

"Are you alright?".

"I'd like to stop talking about that now".

"Of course", Blaine knew he had to be very careful with the fragile state of mind Amber surely possessed. He couldn't hurt him.

"Do you know who Kurt Hummel is?".

Amber's eyes shot up and glazed over with something Blaine didn't understand, "why?".

"Do you know who he is?".

"I know he's evil. I know he's a heinous and malevolent being from the fires of below and I know that he has the desire to abduct me".

Blaine was alarmed. Surely Kurt Hummel was the boy in front of him. However Amber was all of a sudden disconnected from himself, angry, and speaking in a way that was inhumane. It felt like he was repeating someone else's words. Blaine supposed he was.

"Why would he want to do that Amber?", Blaine spoke in a soft, hushed tone, masking his own anguish.

"To corrupt me and to sever me from what was promised", he spoke firmly, "what I promised to do".

"What did you promise to do?".

"I'm afraid I can't answer that".

"You're okay Amber, it's safe with me I promise".

Amber seemed to lose a second of his life, to skip a moment in time and dip into a separate dimension, "safe", he repeated in a voice that sounded like him again.

Blaine supposed there was something happening in his mind that required a cerebral professional to understand.

"Would you like to stop?".

Amber shook his head, "I'd like to continue actually Blaine, I'd like to keep going".

Blaine nodded and gathered himself. Heaven forbid if the last eight years of college, writing and research hadn't prepared him for this.

"Where were you living Amber?".

"I don't know what it was called, I know it was far away from here, from everything and it was just us".

"That's enough", Blaine said quietly and he sat back, replacing his glasses and looking at the floor.

There were no words for a safe amount of time.

"That's enough", he repeated quietly, "Amber, how would you feel about speaking to someone who can help you?".

"Are you talking about police officers?".

Blaine was surprised, "not necessarily but I think it's best if we alert police that you're here".

"I don't want to be taken away Blaine".

"You won't be, they'll just want to speak with you. It's okay if you can't remember everything but it will help a lot of you can speak to them".

"You promise they won't make me leave?".

"Listen to me Amber, you're an adult and you haven't done anything wrong. They are not allowed to make you go anywhere".

"How do you know?".

"It's the law and that's a good thing", Blaine lowered his voice, "and maybe I shouldn't say this but the lead detective, Finn Hudson who you met earlier is a personal friend of mine as is Brody Weston, he's the Chicago chief of police. If I have to pull strings for you I will, I've done it before for much less important things".

"Can you promise me that?".

"Here, look into my eyes, I promise you I will do everything in my power to make all of this right for you, you're safe with me".

"Blaine?".

"Yes?".

"I believe you".

"That's good, I need you too".

"Blaine?".

"Yes?".

"I like looking into your eyes. I just-, I don't think I'd feel right about keeping that a secret".

Blaine thought that right now would be a fabulous moment to keep breathing if he could manage that, "thank you", he stuttered, "I like-, I'm gonna shut up. You need to tell me to shut up more Amber, your eyes are very nice and that's all I have to say right now. Also don't ever feel like you have to keep anything a secret from me because you don't , I'll never, ever judge me. You also don't have to tell me anything that you don't want to. Now I'm being quiet".

Amber smiled softly and said, "I don't think I really ever want you to stop talking".

"You'll regret that, when I try and tell you about-, you know what I'm doing it again. God dammit, we're going home".

 

 

Amber stared at the floor, trying to avoid eye contact with the others in the room.

"Blaine, you can't just take him home".

"I made him a promise", Blaine replied, both were talking under their breath and occasionally glancing at the man just a few feet away.

"Blaine, this is bigger than a feature".

"I know that, that's why I'm doing this. Just trust me Mikey".

"That gets me into trouble sometimes", Mike sighed before saying louder, "Amber?".

The boy lifted his head and crossed his arms. That morning Blaine had given him a thick cardigan and one of his old college t-shirts along with a pair of pants his mom had bought him that had always been too long. The boy had longer legs than Blaine did.

Amber was fidgeting with the stone around his neck, "yes".

Mike nudged past Blaine and approached him, sticking a hand out, "Mike Chang, we were never properly introduced but I suppose Blaine's talked about me".

"Well yes", Amber smiled warily, "Blaine talks about everything really, doesn't he?".

Blaine groaned and leaned against the wall, head in his hands.

Mike burst into a fit of laughter, "I like you".

"Thank you, I appreciate that, I like you as well".

"Thanks my friend".

"We're friends?", he said in surprise.

"Yeah man, of course we are. I'll see you round".

"You'll see me around?".

"The place".

"I don't know what place you're referring to but I'm excited to see you there".

Mike smiled, "you crack me up kid, I love it. Bye guys".

Once they were out in the quiet hallway, Amber leaned in, "I'm very confused".

"Why?".

"I've never tried to crack him, like does he think I want to hit him with some kind of mallet?".

Blaine chuckled but the boy was serious, "it's a turn of phrase".

"Oh, I see. I suppose I'll need to get more familiar with those".

"I suppose you will", Blaine smiled and steered Amber out of the building.

 

  
*****

 

Amber watched Blaine dancing around his kitchen. He was making dinner, well he was trying to.

"That looks okay, right? It looks edible", he asked, holding out a plate. Amber examined the crispy black chunk.

"What is it?", he frowned. Blaine sighed and opened his bin before tipping the contents into it, "never mind".

Blaine leaned in and squinted at his iPod screen, "I would ask for your requests but I doubt you have any".

"I don't. I like yours anyway".

Blaine smiled and then pressed play on ' _Like_ _A_ _Virgin_ '.

Amber watched as he sang along to the first verse, using his wooden spoon as a microphone. He opened a package of spaghetti.

" _But you made me feel, yeah you made me feel, shiny and new_ ", Blaine sang and then he spun around dramatically, " _like a virgin, touched for the very first time"._

Amber laughed which made Blaine feel like so much less of an idiot. For some reason, the sound of his laughter made Blaine feel all warm and fuzzy inside, in other words the feeling you read about in books.

Apparently there was a moment in one's life where they finally knew what that meant.

Amber tried to remain in the moment with his friend.

"Like a virgin until you consummate with thy spouse on the night of your nuptial rites", he muttered.

"What was that?".

"Nothing".

"You're not ready for Madonna my friend, she is a true queen. By the way Amber, are you okay with wearing my clothes for a few more days?".

Amber looked down at the soft t-shirt and cardigan his new friend had given him to borrow in comparison to the old and dirty clothes he'd arrived in.

"I'm perfect with that. I love them, they're soft", he said quietly, "and they smell nice".

"I always was good at picking out fabric conditioner. I'm trying out Cashmere Moments, I appreciate your feedback".

Amber giggled and Blaine continued cooking or what was an attempt at it.

He ended up with an edible looking pasta sauce.

"Hold on", he groaned, scraping burnt spaghetti from where it stuck to the inside of the pan, "I promise it can't be as bad as it looks. On the other hand, the garlic bread had no chances. Official time of death; the second I put it in my shopping basket".

"It smells good".

"Apparently you've never smelt good Italian food".

"I'm not sure I've smelt any Italian food".

"I had a feeling that might be the case".

The blue eyed boy smiled at him and asked for the hundredth time, "do you need any help?".

Blaine continued violently bashing the bottom of a saucepan with his fist wrapped in a tea towel, "yeah, if you wouldn't mind grabbing some drinks from the fridge".

Amber stood up and opened the door to the fridge, he was surprised at the lack of food. However, it was almost full of different types of beverages.

"I know", Blaine called over, "it's odd but I have this weird thing where I feel like people are more likely to, like, stay friends with me and keep coming round if I have a lot of drinks. I'm a very lonely person", he laughed even though it wasn't a joke.

"I suppose neither of us have to be lonely anymore".

Blaine looked back and caught the serious expression on the other man's face, "I suppose we don't".

"What do you want Blaine?", he frowned, "oh what's Heineken?".

"Mike's beer brand, he's very specific but it's alcoholic and you're underage".

He picked up one of the chilled bottles, "I am?".

"Yes", Blaine darted across the room and took the bottle gently from his hand, "and I'm a lightweight so alcohol is for neither of us".

"Okay", he nodded, "how do I know what's alcoholic?".

"Those", Blaine signalled to two sets of bottles and some cans, "are all beer that my friends or my brother drink, anything else alcoholic is over there on the wine rack so avoid that. Should I put sticky notes on them or are you good?".

"I think I can manage", Amber rolled his eyes.

"Oooh sassy Amber", Blaine smirked. It made him smile to see such a natural and humane side to the boy.

"What's sassy?".

"That right there was sassy, I shouldn't have let you spend time with Mercedes and Unique".

"They're my friends", Amber smiled, "I like them".

"I can put up with that".

"They say more words than you do".

Blaine laughed but his cheeks were scarlet.

"But I think I like the words you say a little better".

Blaine turned around because he was blushing furiously now and he picked up two plates, "you'll get tired of me soon enough".

"Tired?", he asked, sitting back down, "of you? No, I don't think that's something I'll ever feel".

Blaine knew he'd never get tired of the fascination and endearment of the other boy but he also felt the solemn knowledge that Amber, like most people would grow tired of him.

"Well, I tried", Blaine placed the plate in front of him, "it's not awful, is it?".

Amber shrugged, "I don't think so".

Blaine picked up his fork. They ate in silence.

 

  
*****

 

Blaine watched the boy curled up on the other end of his couch. He was fast asleep and Blaine had no desire to wake or disturb him so he turned his attention back to the television where an old episode of _Gilmore Girls_ was playing.

 

  
" _Mama, I made this for Emerald today", he produced the wilting chain of picked flowers from his pocket, "I thought it was a daisy chain but these don't look like daisies, do they?"._

_The woman looked down from where she was peeling vegetables for the evening meal, "daisies don't grow here"._

_"I suppose not mama"._

_She snatched it from his out turned palm, "silly boy, flowers are for little girls Amber, are you a little girl?"._

_"No mama", he was trembling slightly now._

_"Well then don't play with flowers, they're for girls. You must learn that, child. Behave like a little boy should"._

_"I'm sorry mama"._

_"You don't go talkin' about Emerald, okay? She won't be back for a while because she was inclined to misbehave and allowed herself to be abducted. Now Amber, do you want to be put away too?"._

_He shook his head firmly._

_"Answer me boy, do you want to be taken?"._

_"No mama"._

_"Well then don't go playin' with flowers and running your mouth about your sister. She needs to learn how to behave. You will be punished for this Amber"._

_"No, mama, please"._

" _Don't talk back to me child", she grabbed him by the wrist, "Ruby, bring me the ruler?"._

_"Yes mama", she replied with a sadness in her eyes reserved for Amber. He was the kindest of all the boys anyway._

_"Now Amber, boys who don't behave must pay for their sins and repent. Repentance is painful"._

_I am evil, forgive me for the sin I have committed._

_He did not see Emerald until she returned, a long time after Mama had taken her to the house._

 

  
The boy jerked awake, eyes wide. He forgot where he was. What had happened? He looked around expecting to see his room. Instead he saw the warm colours of a living space he was seemingly unfamiliar with, with pictures on the wall and a fireplace. He was on a brushed leather couch with a soft, colourful quilt thrown over either side.

There was another person at the other end with wild hair on top of his head and his arms folded across his chest. His gold rimmed glasses were falling down his nose a little bit too much. Amber could see the laughter lines across his forehead and the ways the edges of his eyes crinkled as he smiled unconsciously at the screen, shaking his head at a joke someone had just made.

He looked over.

It was Blaine. Amber knew Blaine. Blaine was safe.

"Hey sleepyhead", he grinned even wider, "you're awake".

"Sorry I fell asleep".

"It's no problem, you gonna go to bed?".

"I'd-, em, I think I'd rather stay here with you actually if that's alright".

"Cool, I found a Gilmore Girls marathon if you want to join me".

"What's gilmore girls?".

"It's a TV show about these two women, Rory and Lorelai Gilmore, they're a mother and daughter and they live in this little town in Connecticut and I mean, Lorelai is obviously in love with Luke but she won't admit it at the moment and neither will he. Rory has no idea what she's doing, there's this Dean guy and this Jess guy and she's all like 'Who do I date? Life is so hard' and I'm like you have two guys interested in you, what a challenge?", he laughed.

Amber nodded and found the means to smile.

It was a thoughtful smile that told Blaine he was listening.

He watched silently, listening to Blaine's commentary on what was happening.

After a few minutes, he looked over, "are you alright Amber?".

He considered the question, "yeah, I'm fine right? Just like you said".

"But do you feel fine?".

"I feel okay, okay is enough".

Blaine made a silent vow that he would make sure Amber was happy one of these days.

"It's just you're very quiet".

"Oh".

"You're always quite quiet, aren't you?".

"Am I?".

"I suppose everyone looks quiet compared to me"

"That's okay", Amber whispered, "I don't like the quiet too much".

His thoughts were much louder when it was quiet and the voice began to grow, the voice that reminded him what was evil.

Amber began to fumble unconsciously with the stone around his neck.

"Do you know what Amber means?", Blaine asked quietly.

"No".

"I was looking up the meanings of the stone and what it's supposed to do", he said softly, "some call it the memory stone. Apparently it's the best gemstone for locking away thoughts and memories and keeping them safe".

"What if you don't want them?".

"I don't know. I just know it helps you remember, apparently, and remain stable when you find truth".

Amber nodded. He tapped it gently, "I've always had it, as long as I can remember".

"You know it has a light energy? That means it calms people down and brings them energy at the same time. It has very powerful healing powers".

"Really?".

"Yes, in lots of ways, it can draw negativity and cleanse the environment around you as well".

"Does that mean there's negativity trapped in there now? That I'm carrying around".

"I'm not sure what it means. I don't think so, I like to think it purifies negativity into something much brighter", Blaine watched the boys finger tips dance over the hard surface of the orange stone, "others call it a writers stone because it clarifies thoughts and wisdom".

Blaine was the first writer Amber had ever met.

"The memory stone, that makes sense", Blaine continued, recalling what he'd read the previous night, "they say to give amber as a gift when you wish not to be forgotten".

Amber blinked.

"That's what it said. I can't help wondering who could ever wish to be forgotten", he pushed his glasses back up his nose, "surely that's beyond our control anyway".


	4. To Think Of Anyone Else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: brief naïve use of homophobic slur and religious misinterpretation

Amber was sitting outside on the grass.

"How long has he been out there?", Mike asked.

"Hours", Blaine replied, "since breakfast. He wants to be by himself".

Amber picked stalks of grass and plaited them together before throwing one away and starting on the next.

Mike had his hand in a box of cereal he'd taken out of Blaine's cupboard, "how did it go?".

"He wants to talk to someone, he agreed to let me contact police as long as he gets to stay here".

"I reckon he needs some serious psychological help".

"I did my research on that, I have some people driving down today".

"Who?".

"I'll tell you when Brody gets here. Over the past few days, I've been talking to him and he's let a few things slip. I have a feeling I know what type of place he was staying at"

Mike nodded and emptied a handful of Lucky Charms into his mouth, "did you tell Amber?".

Blaine nodded, "he doesn't know who they are but he knows they're coming and he asked if he could just hang outside".

Blaine's phone vibrated on the countertop.

(11:16)  
 _I'm coming over later._

"Is that Santana?".

"Of course it is, she's coming by in a few hours but meanwhile, I'm gonna go answer the door", Blaine said as the sound of the bell rang through the hallways.

 

  
Chief Weston looked between the police estimate sketch in his hand and the boy he could see from the window of Blaine Anderson's kitchen.

"When you called me last night Blaine, I thought you had to be crazy. I looked into the case and all but this is simply remarkable".

"It's him, right?".

Brody nodded, "the resemblance is uncanny, that's Kurt Hummel".

"Only he doesn't think that", Blaine said as he poured hot coffee into three mugs.

"Go on then Anderson, give it to us", Brody sat down at the kitchen table and Mike took a seat next to him.

Blaine sighed, "about five days ago, I was at my parents house, about nine o'clock or so and when I was leaving, he was just sitting there. He was leaning against my car door on the  gravel. I was quite frightened at first actually because he was so dirty, covered in sand and earth, his hair was matted and his skin was splattered with mud. He looked like he was freezing and his clothes were covered in stains".

Blaine explained how Amber thought his car was public transport, how they ended up at Blaine's house and how he didn't even known what a shower was. He explained that he'd made him some food and given him a room and the story continued from there, right up to what Amber had told him over the following days about his life before now.

"And not once did you think of calling the police?".

"I wanted to call the cops the second I met him but I just didn't, not until now".

"Well Blaine, you'll remain true to your word. I see no problem with him staying here. I need to write up an official report and take a recorded statement from both of you".

"That won't be a problem", Mike crossed his arms.

"As for Amber, I'd like him to speak to a psychiatrist before he speaks to police".

"I see", Brody said slowly, "I can arrange that".

"No", Blaine said quickly, "I have some guys coming over. They work together on things like this apparently".

"Things like what?".

"I have a theory as to where Amber might have been"

Mike sat back, "another theory of yours".

"Hear me out. I noticed he referenced sin a lot and he talked about faith. Occasionally he'll just repeat a line that sounds almost biblical as if he's taken it from a religious text of some kind. I've looked into it and they're not from any of the key religious scriptures, these things he says but I don't doubt he's picked them up somewhere. I don't know if you've noticed Mike but he often speaks in a strange manner and constructs his sentences in a way most people don't as if he's not spoken to many people".

Brody leaned forward.

"Em, he told me a story from when he was a child, about six and how his sister had told him they were going to get married which I doubt is even normal practice for a child to say. He called her Emerald. He told me she was 'put away' when she asked them to call her Quinn. That didn't really help an awful lot seeing as there is no Quinn on the list of missing children".

"I don't understand".

"Well if you put two and two together and look at his way of thinking and way of behaving, it's not normal".

"Well obviously, he's been through a lot".

"Yes but I have an idea of what exactly that is. The people I called, Jesse St. James and Sam Evans, they specialise in victims of abusive and controlling religious organisations".

"Like a cult?".

"Yes Mike, I've been talking back and forth with Jesse whose a trained psychiatrist that specialises in the mindsets of cult victims and his partner Sam is an ex cop and a cult specialist. They think it's highly viable, in fact Jesse said that his behaviour is almost identical to victims he's seen before".

"When can I talk to them?".

"They'll be here at around two o'clock. They'll be in town for a while, to help me and Mike and Amber".

"I'll be back later then Blaine, with Finn".

"I understand".

"Do you think I could get a DNA sample now, better sooner than later?".

"Do you reckon you can get something from a t-shirt he wore?".

Brody nodded.

"I'd rather not disturb him is all, he looks peaceful".

"I really respect what you're doing here Blaine. I'm sure he's much happier here than he would've been in police accommodation".

"Me too".

  
*****

"Hey", Blaine shoved his hands into his pockets, "you okay?".

Amber looked up at him and blinked to protect himself from the harsh winter sunlight that shone through the cold air, "yeah".

"There are some people here to see you", Blaine said gently as he dropped down onto the grass and crossed his legs.

"Who?".

"They're here to help you, they're going to talk to you about what's been going on in your life and hopefully we can all get to the bottom of how to keep you safe".

"Are they police?".

Blaine shook his head, "you might have to talk to some police later but the man in there, his name is Jesse. He wants to have a chat with you to see how you're brains doing, he's trained in that kind of stuff".

"I'm not crazy Blaine".

"I know that, I never thought you were but I do think that you've been through an awful lot in your life and I want to make sure you're okay so you can be happy".

"Why?".

"Because you deserve it Amber".

"Why are you being so nice to me?".

"Why wouldn't I be nice to you? It just wouldn't be me Amber, to have left you out in the cold like that. I'd never have forgiven myself".

"You could have called someone else".

"I'm not sure I'll ever know what stopped me from doing that but I know I'm glad I didn't", he nudged his glasses back up his nose, "you've been out here for a while, are you cold?".

Amber nodded, "I'm used to it though".

Blaine looked at the rows of what must have been hundreds of small plaits of grass that the boy had been creating for hours.

"I was babysitting my cousin once", Blaine said, "she asked me to plait her hair and I ended up with something that resembled a piece of fusili".

"It's easy", Amber picked three more strands of grass and knotted them together at the top before beginning his cycle again, "I used to plait my sisters hair and some of the other girls", he paused, "but only when no one else was around. Little boys aren't supposed to plait hair", he was clearly distracted.

"I think little boys can do whatever they want to do as long as it's not hurting anybody. I think anybody can".

"Of course you do", he responded sadly, completing the plait.

"Here", Blaine reached out and took it gently from his fingers, "you gonna come and talk to Jesse?".

"I suppose so".

Blaine stood up and dusted himself off before offering his hand to Amber who took it and stood up.

"Are you sure you're okay?".

"It doesn't matter".

"It matters to me", Blaine insisted.

"No it doesn't. The only thing that matters is what is eternal, not me and not you and not the insignificant emotions we force ourselves to comprehend".

"Hey", Blaine frowned, "don't you ever say how you feel isn't important. I know you don't mean it, whoever said that to you Amber, they don't know what they're talking about".

Amber looked at the grass and Blaine nudged his shoulder gently, "come on then. I'll make you some chamomile tea".

 

  
"Hiya Amber, I'm Jesse St. James".

Amber wasn't sure about the overzealous man in the long black coat that stuck a hand out towards him.

"Hi".

"I don't know how much Blaine has told you but he and I had a little conversation on the phone last night. I'm really just here to talk to you and over time hopefully we'll be able to work out what is best for your future".

Amber was looking at the other man though, clearly trying to work out the reason for his presence.

"This is my colleague, Sam Evans".

"Hi Amber", he smiled.

"Hi".

No one really wanted to explain why Sam was there and for once, Blaine was glad Amber never seemed to see it as his place to ask questions.

He handed Amber the steaming hot mug of chamomile and a similar mug of coffee to Jesse, "where do you want to do this?".

"Where are you most comfortable Amber?".

Amber considered the question and bit his lip, "in Blaine's sitting room".

"Right so, I think we'll set up camp in there".

  
*****

"Now Amber", Jesse said once they were alone. He leaned back in the armchair, "first of all, I want to remind you that our time together is for your benefit. I'm here to help you. If you have any questions, just ask me. If you need a minute, take one. If you're uncomfortable or tired or upset, just let me know and we'll sort it".

Amber nodded.

"Now as I understand you've been having a pretty tough time, we're only gonna talk about what you wanna talk about however the more you tell me, the easier it is for me to help".

"Okay".

"Right then, let's get started".

 

*****

  
Blaine Anderson's usually empty kitchen now had a police chief, an officer, a detective, a journalist, his boss and an expert in controlling religious organisations sitting at the table awkwardly sipping coffee and making light conversation.

“Yeah, it's actually nice weather for this time of year”.

“I know, I was surprised I didn't need . . . knitware”.

“Me too man, I thought I'd need a thicker hat this year. Mine’s been waring thin for a while”.

“I'm gonna save all of you from yourselves and say shut the hell up”, Santana said, knocking back the final remnants of her coffee.

“They've been in there a while?”, Finn asked.

“Yeah”, Blaine confirmed, “a couple of hours or so”.

“How long is the DNA test going to take to come back?”, Mike asked, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Usually a few weeks due to backlog but because of the severity of the case, we don't have to wait so long. It takes about 55 hours to complete the process so it'll be at least three days now”.

“Thank you”, Blaine said quietly, “it's really important for me to find out for Amber’s sake”.

“When are you questioning him?”, Santana asked.

“That depends. We need to see Mr St. James’ qualifications and if they're legit, he'll give us a pschiatry report on whether or not the victim is suitable for questioning. We need to do what's best for Amber so obviously if he's not up for it, we’ll wait”.

“There is a type of grant you can get in very individual cases where we can have a pschiatrist present for the questioning, whatever is deemed most appropriate”, Finn added.

Blaine nodded.

They all turned towards the door as Jesse glanced his head around.

“Can I just have a quick chat with Blaine?”.

Blaine jumped off the counter he was sitting on and followed Jesse out into the dim hallway, “how is he?”, the shorter man whispered.

“I suppose he'll want to be left alone, he's quite fragile at the moment. Obviously I can't discuss anything against Amber’s wishes but I have to say Blaine, I have absolutely no doubt in my mind he was abducted by some kind of-“, Jesse cut himself off and swallowed, looking back towards the living room and lowering his already very quiet voice, "cult”.

“Oh, okay, oh god”.

He nodded,”I'm very impressed you picked that up. Amber told me a lot more than I was expecting”.

“Do you know where he was?”.

Jesse shook his head, “no but neither does he, whoever was in charge were clearly very controlling and I don't doubt, abusive from what I've heard”.

“Can you help him?”.

“I asked him if he was comfortable with me and he said yes, you might want to make sure but me and Sam are really fascinated with this story and now that you have found the first lead in thirteen years, we're definitely sticking around. I know Sam will be extremely helpful when it comes to your feature and hopefully I can offer some assistance but my main priority is Amber”.

“As is mine. I want you to know this isn't just a feature to me, Amber's a close friend”.

“I'm glad to here that, it's important he has that in his life at the moment. He trusts you Blaine. I know that”.

 

_Jesse tried to fathom everything the boy had just told him._

_“So Amber, I'd like to talk a little bit about what you've been doing since you left. Can you tell me anything about Blaine?”._

_“Well, what would you like to know?”._

_“Who is Blaine to you?”._

_“He's my friend”._

_“And how much have you told Blaine?”._

_“Little stories, here and there I suppose. I don't want to bore him with it”._

_“Would you like to tell him more?”._

_“I think he's the person I'd like to tell everything to”._

_“Because it can help, telling someone who isn't me if that's something that you're comfortable with”._

_Amber nodded._

_“Do you trust Blaine, do you think he's a person in your life that you can count on?”._

_“He certainly makes me feel that way”._

_“I'm glad to hear that, now Amber shall we take a look at where we're going to go from here?”._

 

“He does? Really? How do you know?”, Blaine asked.

“Trust me on this one. Be careful though, look after him?”.

Blaine was sure that was something he was happy to do with his life, as little sense as that made.

“Can I see him?”.

Jesse nodded, “I suppose the cops want to speak to me”.

“They do, thank you for this”.

The taller man shook his head and moved past Blaine. Sure enough, Amber was sitting silently with his legs crossed on Blaine's couch, playing with the corner of a quilt.

“Knock, knock”, Blaine's voice was gentle and kind as were his eyes.

“Hello”.

“How did that go?”.

Amber shrugged, “I don't suppose I know how it was supposed to go”.

“How did it feel?”.

“Strange but I'm not angry, just a little bit sad”.

Blaine sat down next to him and warily reached out, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

Amber blinked and the corners of his lips upturned just slighly but it was slight enough for Blaine to know he didn't mind and so he rested his palm tenderly on Amber's arm.

“Must I speak to the police now?”.

“The next couple of days will be time enough for that. Right now, I'll clear the house of all these nuisances and you and I can watch a movie in our pyjamas”. Blaine nudged him gently, “that sound okay?”.

“It sounds lovely”.

“You must be starving”.

“Are you cooking?”.

“I think I'll spare us this evening and order in some pizza”.

“Order?”.

“Oh my dear Amber, the evervescent joys of takeout pizza you're yet to enjoy”.

 

 

“So what'll it be? Lord Of The Rings or Titanic, Jurassic Park? You've missed out on all the classics”.

“I don't know”, Amber examined each DVD case, carefully tracing the spines as he looked at the front cover. He pointed to the word ‘ _Avatar_ ’ , “what's this one called?”.

“What do you mean?”, Blaine chuckled confusedly, “it's right there”.

“Yes, but what is it called?”.

“I-, well Avatar but it-“, Blaine paused and looked at the floor, something dawning over him, “Amber, can you read?”.

The boy put the DVD on the carpet beside him and shook his head, staring at the ground, “no”, he said, “no, I can't”.

“That's okay”, Blaine whispered, “have you ever been to school?”.

He nodded, “I was homeschooled but my mother told me that we didn't learn like other children. We learned what we needed to do what we had to do”.

Blaine nodded, “maybe I can help you out, if you'd like to learn”.

“I would”, he said and looked back to where his eyes met Blaine's, “did you go to school?”.

“Yes, right up ‘til my high school graduation day. I went to college too”.

“Where?”.

“Right here in Chicago, I wanted to stay close to my parents you see. I did a journalism degree at Northwestern”, Blaine smiled thoughtfully, “go wildcats”.

“Is that something I don't understand?”.

“Yes, I think it is but just for right now”.

The doorbell rang.

 

 

 

Blaine sat at his laptop, watching as the small black bar appeared and disappeared over and over again. It felt like it was mocking him.

The organisation was called 4/10. Ten children. Four states. One group of parents trying to solve the mystery that destroyed their lives.

  
**Re: Feature**

**My name is Blaine Anderson. My colleague, Michael Chang and I are expressly interested in your story and the story of your children. We work as investigative journalists in Chicago. I don't doubt that soon enough, you'll know my name but I wanted to introduce myself and say that we'd love to meet with you. I can't imagine what it's like and what your families have gone through but I fully intend to force people to care again, I can't imagine anyone would wish to be forgotten. Please ger back to me whenever you can.**

**Yours sincerely,  
Blaine Anderson**

  
He read back over it and ended up in a spiral of thought reguarding how Kurt's parents feel to this very day. He couldn't possibly imagine how his own parents would've reacted to losing Blaine.

Kurt Hummel looked like a remarkable child.

Blaine opened another tab and typed something into his YouTube search bar before clicking on a video, an interview with Burt and Elizabeth Hummel, six months after the disappearance of their son.

Blaine quickly put in a single headphone and connected the other end to his laptop.

  
“ _And what kind of boy was_ _Kurt_?”, a voice behind the camera asked.

Elizabeth sighed and looked at the floor, " _is Kurt, you mean",_ she appeared as a woman who hadn't slept in weeks, “ _he was such a light, such a ray of sunshine in everybody's lives. I remember one day he came home from school crying and-_ “, her voice tremored with the threat of tears but instead she coughed, “ _some kids had been mean to him. That happened lots, Kurt was different, he wasn't like the other kids so he got picked om sometimes. Anyway, he came home crying and I asked him what was wrong and he just said ‘I want to be an ordinary boy’. He just wanted to be like the other kids, just a kid. That's all Kurt is, he's a child and someone's taken that innocence away from him. Please just give us our little boy back”_.

Blaine watched Burt, the kind if man you'd expect to be a mechanic from Ohio.

“ _How adamant are you that there's a connection in the 4/10 disappearances?”._

“ _That kind of timeline isn't an accident_ ”, Elizabeth said, “ _we have almost no doubt in our minds. Burt and I are working tiresomely with the other parents to find our children. We're desperate, everyday is like waking up in your own personal hell. Every phone call has that little bit of hope attached”._

“ _And what about you Mr Hummel, what makes you so sure_?”.

The man shook his head only slightly. “ _I just know_ ”.

“What are you looking at?”, Blaine slammed the screen shut and looked at the doorway.

“I thought you were in bed”.

“I was”, he whispered back.

“Come here”, Blaine smiled softly and nodded towards the chair right by him, “sit with me”.

“I couldn't really get to sleep tonight”.

“Well a lot has happened today, I suppose your mind is busy”.

“Maybe”.

“The police want you to go to a general practitioners tomorrow”

“What's that?”

“A doctor”.

“A doctor? I'm not sick”.

“No but it's good to be checked out. I go for a checkup every couple of months too, it's to keep you healthy”.

“What do they do?”.

“Well, yours will be a bit more thorough than those I suspect because you haven't been to a doctors office very much. They just check you out and make sure you're doing alright?”.

“Will I have to take off my clothes?”.

“I don't know. I didn't ask, maybe”.

“I don't want to”, Amber said quickly, fingers finding the stone hanging around his neck, “I can't”.

“Shh, calm down, it's alright, I'm sure we can work something out”, Blaine wasn't so sure he had much say in the matter but he didn't care either.

“I really would rather not Blaine”.

“That's okay, I'll make sure they know that. It's about helping you after all”.

“Okay”, Amber nodded, “I believe you”.

 

***** 

  
Amber spent the following day in very much the same position, sitting out on the grass and plaiting. The patch around where he sat was growing bigger.

Blaine spent it watching him. The police were with Sam and Jesse in the living room. Mike was doing some research at the kitchen table. However Blaine was much more fascinated by the view from the window.

“Be very careful Blaine”, Mike said softly, “you know how you get”.

“I know, I just care”.

“Too much, you always have done”.

Blaine knew he was right. He needed to see this as what it was, helping a boy who needed help.

Santana arrived minutes later.

“He's weird”, she muttered, “what is this?”

“He likes it so I don't really care”.

“It's destroying your lawn”, she zipped her coat back up, “I'm going to talk to him”.

“No you're not”.

“I'm not going to interrogate him Anderson, I just wanna see how he's doing”.

“Be kind Santana, he's not in a good place”.

“I know”, she replied sincerely, “I will”.

 

“Hey Amber”.

“Hi”.

“I don't know if you remember me, Santana?”.

“Hi”, he repeated.

“What're you doing?”.

“Plaiting”.

“I see that”, she said, taking a seat next him on the ground, “you're very good at it”.

“Thank you”.

“I like plaiting hair too”, she smiled, “I plait my wife's hair all the time”.

“Your wife?”.

“Yeah”, she answered fondly, “Brittany”.

“Brittany”, Amber repeated, “so you married a woman”.

“I did”.

“That's a sin”.

Normally this would have aggravated Santana but not from this boy, something told her he didn't understand what he was saying and she wasn't often wrong.

“No, it's love”, she replied softly.

“It can't be love”, he responded calmly, “it's sodomy”.

“Amber, that's a very backwards way of seeing things. Gay people are a really good group of spirited individuals”.

“No, they're sodomites and faggots”.

She shifted uncomfortably while the boy continued to plait blades of severed grass, staining his fingers green.

“You know Blaine is gay”.

Amber paused and then blinked, “he is?”.

“Yeah, he likes other boys”.

“I-, well I don't know how I feel”.

“He was a groomsman at my wedding as well, it was a beautiful day. Would you like to see a picture?”.

He nodded slowly, “I suppose so”.

Santana showed him one of the pictures on her camera roll of Blaine, Mike, her and Brittany. They were smiling, her and Brittany in their wedding dresses and Blaine and Mike dressed smartly in tailored suits, a matching flower pinned to their lapels.

“You look happy”.

“We are”.

“She's very pretty, your wife”, he added as he turned his attention back to the grass between his fingers.

“I think she's the most beautiful person in the world”, she slid her phone back into her pocket, “but that tends to be the case with love”.

“I think Blaine's quite beautiful”, Amber replied, “am I allowed to say that?”.

She smiled, “of course you are”.

“He makes me smile, when I look at him. Not very many things make me smile”.

“He's a very special person”, she watched Amber concentrate on his own movement, “this is how I see things. If you love someone, God made you feel that way. I don't think he'd do that if he didn't want you guys to be happy together, right? The big man up there, he's no idiot. He knows what he's doing and he brought me to Brittany. One day he'll bring you to someone and you'll just know”.

“That I'm in love?”.

“There's nothing quite like it”.

“So you don't think God has hatred for gay people?”.

“No, I don't. In fact, the God I follow has hatred for no one”.

“That sounds nice”, Ambers voice had become that of a man on the verge of crying, “no hatred”.

“It's a very heavy thing to carry around. You'll be much happier when you let go of hatred. Trust me, I should know”.

“Blaine likes boys?”, he said softly, “does he have a boyfriend?”

“No, he hasn't for a while now”.

“How come?”

“Bad luck, damaging experience. The poor boy is so naïve when it comes to love”.

“That's alright. I think I may be the most naïve of any one”.

“Have you ever loved someone, in the romantic sense?”.

“No, I don't think so”, he said, finishing a knot before reconsidering, “maybe”.

“Shall we go inside and get some coffee, it's freezing cold?”.

Amber looked back towards the house, “yes”, he replied, “I'd quite like something warm”.

 


	5. No Written Guidelines

"You're that Blaine Anderson guy?".

Blaine looked up and over to the only other person in the waiting room, an older man.  
  
"I thought I recognised you from somewhere, I've seen you on the news".

"Oh", he shook his head, "hi, yeah, yes I mean. That's me".

"I've read your stuff in the paper, it's mighty good".

"Thank you sir, I appreciate that".

"You're a real talent at that journalism lark, there's so many idiots writing in the papers these days, the lord only know where the get it"

"Well, that's very good of you to say", Blaine removed his glasses and cleaned the lenses with the corner of his cardigan, "it's certainly where my heart lies".

"Good on you kid".

"Excuse me, Mr Anderson. Doctor Abrams would like to speak with you now?".

Blaine stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets, nodding to the man he'd been speaking to, "you have a good day sir".

He followed her to the office where Artie Abrams was sorting through a collection of notes, "Blaine, have a seat".

"Where is he?".

"He's just with a nurse in the other room. I'd just like to have a quick chat with you".

"Oh, oh right".

"I won't go into everything but you can see from looking at him that he's not in tip top shape. He's really self conscious about showing off skin which doesn't overtly concern me but I want to watch out for it. I didn't want to upset him until I've chatted with his psychiatrist so today I just left him to it. Blaine, his BMI is far from healthy, he's quite seriously underweight. He's only 118 pounds, borderline if not already emaciated. I have a diet plan that I can email you later with the kinds of things he needs to be eating".

Blaine nodded.

"Most nineteen year old boys his height are at least 150 pounds. Apart from that he's in relatively good health, I'll obviously work on it myself and I think right now I'd hope to be seeing him every fortnight".

"That won't be a problem Artie".

"Good luck with this one Blaine".

  
*****

  
"Was that okay?", Blaine broke the silence in the car on the way home.

"Yeah", Amber nodded, "it was fine".

"That's good".

"Is this the same way we came?", Amber asked curiously, looking out the car window.

"No, it's not. We're not going home right away if that's alright".

"Where are we going?".

"You're getting a haircut", Blaine smiled, "and some new clothes".

"Blaine, I don't have any money".

"That's alright, I'll take care of it".

He had more money than he needed if Blaine was honest and if he couldn't spend it on someone who both needed it more and made him happy, what was the point in it?

"No, I really couldn't possibly accept anymore from you".

"Please Amber, for me. I'd like to".

He pulled up outside a hairdressers, it wasn't ever busy around these hours so Blaine presumed this would be a good time to take Amber there. The parking lot was quiet, the atmosphere calm and so he noted that Amber's mood seemed relatively at ease.

"Come on", he smiled softly, ignoring the boys denial to accept his offering, "you have an appointment".

Blaine pushed the door open, "Jake?".

Amber followed timidly.

A man emerged from the back of the salon wearing a tight sky blue top with a dark waistcoat and some black jeans.

"Blaine", he called, opening his arms and pulling Blaine into a strong hug.

Amber looked around the hair salon. There was a woman concentrating on cutting another ladies hair, trimming the grey ends into a perfectly straight line. She turned around and offered Blaine a small wave before smiling at Amber and continuing.

"That's Bree", Jake whispered, leaning over to Amber, "but she's not speaking to me right now", he grinned, "you must be Amber, Jake Puckerman", the man held out his hand.

Amber shook it, having learned that's common practice. He liked the gleam in this man's eyes, one of excitement and optimism, one he longed to possess himself.

"You met his brother Noah, at the coffee shop, do you remember?".

Amber nodded, thinking back to the man behind the counter he'd briefly spoken to. When you know as little people as he has, it isn't hard to know who you've spoken to.

"So Amber, you're here for a hair appointment. I freed up my schedule to do it personally because when I spoke to Blaine, I couldn't wait to meet you. You sounded like an awesome guy".

"Oh, thank you".

"No problem man, now what am I doing to you?", he leaned back against the wall and folded his arms.

Blaine interrupted the taller boy's thoughts, "hey Amber, do you mind if I run next door? I used to work in the sewing shop there, back in college. That's actually how I met Jake".

"Next door?".

"Literally the next shop over, all you do is shout if you need me".

"Alright", he replied, looking at the floor.

"You're in safe hands", Blaine reached over and rested a hand on Amber's arm gently, "don't worry, I'll be back soon".

"What's he doing to me?", Amber whispered to Blaine who grinned.

"Jake's the best stylist in the city, in my opinion anyway".

"I'm gonna take you through your options Amber and you can see what you wanna do, if that's just a simple trim, cool, if you want a bleach blond perm I'm down for that as well", Jake grinned, "I like a challenge, I'll do anything you ask".

"Okay then, I suppose I'll see you later Blaine".

*****

From the ages of sixteen to nineteen, Blaine had worked in 'Bells, Beads and Buttons', a sewing store owned by two women named Jan and Liz. They were a married couple who Blaine had gotten to know well over his time and he saw them as two second mothers.

"What's troublin' you dear?", Jan asked from behind the counter.

"Oh nothing", Blaine replied, "it's just busy at work these days".

"You've always worked too hard anyway now I know you Blaine, like the back of my own hand. Why are you looking at beads?".

Blaine was admiring the collections of colourful beads in every possible, shape, size and colourful. He knows what he intends them for, or more importantly who.

"Do you guys still carry that thicker thread, the one that we used to sell for like friendship bracelets?".

"Yeah, a whole range of it came in yesterday, it's behind the clasps over there", she frowned, "why?".

"I'm buying a gift for someone", Blaine replied thoughtfully, distracted by his own ideas as he filled a basket with goods.

"Who?".

"A friend".

He was saved by the store phone ringing. As Jan chatted away to a supplier, Blaine selected exactly what he'd come for. Before he'd been there twenty minutes, he received a text from Jake.

**(12:04)**   
**Hey, your friend has settled down with me. You're gonna love what we're doing, he's really excited about it. Give me a few hours, find a way to kill time.**

Blaine smiled, this would be interesting. At the same time, it would give him time to find Amber some other things to wear.

**(12:05)**   
**No problem, call me if he needs me, I won't stray far.**

*****

As promised, two hours later, Blaine found himself lugging an army of shopping bags to his car. He had ended up with three pairs of tight pants in maroon, dark green and black, an array of looser trousers that cuffed at the ankles and hips in pale mustard, navy blue, burnt umber and emerald green. He had about ten different looser fitting shirts, some in block colours, others patterned with artistic designs. He had bought three cardigans, one a dark, leafy green, another a muted grey and the third royal blue. Blaine had found him a warm hoodie that was maroon and pale yellow, a winter coat and three pairs of shoes. He had also bought a tote-like shoulder bag that had been tie dyed different shades of green for the possessions Amber did not have yet. Two pairs of pyjamas, some sweatpants, a couple of t-shirts and a small collection of scarves later and Blaine forced himself to leave almost positive that Amber now had a larger closet than he did.

He filled the boot of his car, having to put two bags in the back seat along with the gift he had earlier purchased. Blaine locked the car doors and walked back to Jake's salon. Now it was entirely empty, the other customers gone. It was lunch time, so they were closed for the hour apart from Amber.

"Hiya", Bree waved a couple of manicured fingertips his way as she flipped through the pages of a magazine and picked at a Caesar salad with her fork. She smiled.

"Where are they?".

"Jake's just finishing up, you might kill us".

"Oh god, what have you done?".

Blaine sat down on a plastic chair near the nail bar. Jake and Bree were both hairstylists but she also worked a small, instore nail bar and Jake did piercings.

"Only what he wanted".

"Well, that's good enough for me. How much is it gonna cost me?".

"Jake is refusing to accept payment. It's on the house".

"Oh Bree, no, I couldn't accept that"

"You don't have to", she replied, "it's our gift Amber".

Blaine shook his head, "that's really something".

"Blaine, it's the least we can do", she whispered, "Jake told me what you said to him. You're the one letting him live with you, what we're doing is nothing, you're pure gold Blaine Anderson, some kind of goddamn saint".

"No, I just-", Blaine didn't know his intention for that sentence. He supposed he had none.

"Speaking of Amber", she smiled over to the other side of the salon where Jake poked his head around the door.

"Y'all aren't ready", he grinned, "this is surely my best creation yet".

"Our best creation", she corrected, "now the poor man's been waiting three hours. Give him a break and show him".

Jake stepped aside and Amber appeared. Blaine couldn't stop staring.

His hair was styled up . . . high. It had clearly been tidied up but that wasn't all. He had streaks of emerald green, royal blue and a wicked purple running through it. Blaine took a few steps closer, "it's wonderful".

"Do you like it?", Amber asked shyly, "it's very colourful".

"I love it. Do you like it?".

"I love it too".

Blaine frowned at the revelation that Amber was lisping slightly, he looked to Jake, "check it out", Jake grinned, gesturing to the boy's ears.

Blaine squinted through his glasses, Amber had one, small orange stone in each ear, "you pierced his ears".

"And his tongue", Jake beamed and Amber stuck out his tongue to prove the statement, "he's got a high pain tolerance".

"Oh, right, they're really great actually".

"Go on and show him my handiwork", Bree added and Blaine was shown Amber's delicate, pale hands, his fingernails now painted a dark yet glimmering green.

"You're happy?", Blaine asked his friend and genuinely wanting the answer.

Amber looked back to a mirror at his own reflection, "yes", he smiled softly, "I'm . . . overjoyed".

"That's great", Blaine smiled back, "you look great".

"I suppose I do".

*****

"Blaine, this is far too much. I can't take it, I truly can't"

Blaine sighed and fell back onto the couch, "well it's not in my size, is it?".

"So go and get your money back".

Blaine stood up and took his wallet out of his bag, carefully removing and straightening out each receipt before ripping them up, "I can't now".

Amber looked at the bags of clothing, "I don't deserve it Blaine, it would be selfish. I don't deserve you".

"Yes you do, remember when we agreed that you're going to have to learn how to believe me?".

"Yes".

"Believe me right now".

He took a couple of breaths in and out before nodding, "I believe you Blaine, thank you".

"You're welcome".

If Blaine was being truthful, this may have been his way of thanking the boy for bringing such unexpected purpose to his life in a way he had never anticipated and a way of saying 'because of you, I'm not so lonely anymore'.

  
*****

"So what I've worked out, is that he was travelling for between forty to fifty hours both on foot and public transport. It has to be within that perimeter of Chicago. From what Amber has described, he never saw a person that wasn't part of the group he lived in. Wherever it is, it's isolated".

"So that narrows it down to at least, what, nine hundred spots?", Blaine leaned back into the armchair and groaned.

"Come on Blaine, pay attention. It's more than you got", Mike replied, sitting on the windowsill of his office.

"I'm sorry man, I know, it's just a big day", Blaine sighed.

Amber was was at Blaine's house with Brody, Finn and Jesse. They had managed to pull a few strings and gain a grant for a mental health specialist to assist in Amber's police interview. Blaine was glad for it.

Mike looked at his friend and offered a reassuring smile, "it's just an interview".

"I know", he mumbled.

"What you're really worried about is leaving him alone".

"No I'm not".

"Yes you are, you spend all day together everyday. You're having what we call attachment issues".

"I'm just worried about him".

At that very moment, there was a knock on Mike's office door and Finn appeared, "afternoon boys".

"What are you doing here?".

"Special delivery", he shrugged, "we thought we'd stop by".

He stepped away from the door way where a smiling Jesse appeared and directly in his wake, was Amber.

He was grinning, all colourful hair and bright eyes. He was wearing a loose maroon shirt with pale yellow and blue patterns and navy cuffed pants. There was a pale linen apricot scarf around his neck.

"Hi", Blaine smiled softly.He hadn't been expecting to see Amber so happy after today.

"Blaine Anderson", a voice called before Brody appeared and Blaine realised who it belonged to, "I have a bone to pick with you".

Blaine bit his lip, eyebrows furrowed.

"Can I speak to you in private?".

"But-".

"But nothing", Mike patted him on the back, "go. We're getting coffee, we'll pick you two up one".

Blaine glared at his best friend but reluctantly followed Chief Weston. His colleagues were used to Blaine and Mike having people in their office but they were still staring. Brody opened the door and closed it behind Blaine.

"You emailed them?", he asked.

"Who?".

"4/10, you spoke to them?".

He sighed, "I sent a brief business email".

"Blaine, you can't do that without talking to us".

"I'm sorry, Brody, I didn't realise".

He leaned back against the wall and held up a brown envelope, "it doesn't matter now, anyway we got his results back".

Blaine stood up straighter, "you did?".

"Yes, I figured when they got delivered to me I should come down here even though that is far from official procedure".

He nodded, "is he-?".

"Let's find out", Brody opened the envelope and examined the page, pupils skimming over the printed text, he turned to the next page before looking back at Blaine.

"It's conclusive", he answered, "that's Kurt Hummel".

Blaine had been expecting this but for reasons he failed to understand, he was unprepared, "so, where do we go from here?".

"Jesse is yet to evaluate Kurt-".

"Amber".

"Amber's response to his true identity, you saw how he reacts to that name. Obviously his father has been notified and that is being dealt with separately. He's absolutely desperate to see him but the Ohio police have explained how that will take time and development and an awful lot of explanation. The police investigation has officially been reopened and Hiram Berry, Rachel Berry's father, he's the 4/10 front man will be on national news in a couple of days".

"Are they appealing or something?".

He nodded, "a nationwide appeal for more information, they're offering cash rewards I believe. Anyway, more importantly 4/10 have asked to meet you, Burt especially and Mike if they can".

"Does Burt know I found him?".

"Yes, he does".

"Is that why he wants to meet me?".

"I don't know why he wants to meet you Blaine, I just know he does and I know that Hiram wants you to come on with him".

"No".

"No?".

"No, I'm not doing that, I'll be happy to do it in the future once and if we get further with this case but until Amber knows who he is, I just wouldn't feel right about it".

"I can respect that, do you think Mike would go on?".

"I'm sure he would and I'd honestly much rather he did".

"You'll meet with them though, the 4/10 parents?".

Blaine nodded, "absolutely".

"Tomorrow it is then".

"Tomorrow?".

"Yes, tomorrow, they intended to fly in as soon as you agreed to meet with them".

"I can't spend long, you have me for three hours".

"I suppose you'll be bringing Mike".

"Of course I will, he's my partner in this".

"I'll send on the details".

"Brody", Blaine narrowed his gaze, "twelve to three, that's when I'm free. No more and no less"

The police chief held his hands up, "I understand, don't you worry".

*****

"I'm just going to speak to them about your case".

Amber sighed, tracing shapes in the spilled patch of salt in the table, "but who are they, Blaine?", he asked softly.

"I'll tell you another time but I do have something for you to do whilst I'm gone".

"Hm?".

"I called a friend of mine", Blaine poured boiling water on top of the chamomile tea bag, "a guy I know, his name is Will Schuester and he's a teacher. Anyway, he would love to make time to have a couple of classes with you a week".

"Classes?".

"Helping you to learn to read and write".

"I thought you were going to do that".

"I said I would help. But I'm not trained to teach someone literacy, he is and he's one of the most patient people I know, he'd really love to help you".

"I suppose so".

"You know you don't just have to go along with something because I ask you to".

"I trust you", he replied.

"Do you think you'd be up to meeting him tomorrow?".

"I guess so".

Blaine sighed and took the tea bag out of the water, "Sam and Jesse will be around anyway so there would be other people in the house".

"Where are you going?".

"I'm meeting those people I mentioned for work", Blaine wasn't about to lie however the truth was also not to be disclosed.

"Okay, I suppose the sooner I learn the better".

"Don't rush it Amber, these things take time".

"I know", he responded quietly before getting a curious look in his eye Blaine recognized from childhood, "are you a homosexual?", he asked suddenly.

Blaine almost spat out the last of the coffee he'd just knocked back before delivering Amber his tea.

Amber was staring at him. He swallowed, "yeah, yes I suppose I am".

"So are you going to marry a man?".

"Yes, if one'll have me".

"Oh".

"Why?".

Amber thought for a moment, "well I always thought that was one of the greatest sins but then Santana told me about her wife and how she sees God".

"You know God didn't write the bible".

"No but it's his word".

"Not necessarily", Blaine was wary of religion in general as he very much subscribed to the belief that everyone had the right to their own, "but God is about love, right? And love is love".

"But you choose love".

Blaine frowned and took a seat, "yeah, sure partly. There are certain parts that you have to accept but to love is to feel a deep sort of affection for someone and to desire to be with them or to be around them and I think there probably has to be a connection to feel something like that".

"What, so you think you have to lose control of yourself?".

"No, I think you can control your emotions but you can't force them to disappear. I think love is something you have to respect and understand when it's not reciprocated but I think it's also a thing you fall into, you don't jump".

"So how do you know if you like girls or boys?".

"Well some people don't, it takes a long time for some people to know. I knew pretty early, at first I thought maybe I liked both but em, no I think that I'm very much so inclined to go for men. It's whoever you're attracted to or if not, the type of people you want to be intimate with or share a life with", he smiled, "share a bed with, start a family with or just grow old together and maybe that's not for everyone. Maybe there are people who like to change it up, there are people who never become intimate with someone and that's fine. For some people it's purely sexual and for others, that's the least important thing. For me it's finding someone whose my best friend and who I care enough about to make those sacrifices and want to spend the rest of my life with, someone who makes me happy, I suppose", Blaine shook his head, "and just hope they feel the same way about me".

Amber coughed, "I see".

"I suppose I went off in a bit of a tangent".

"You know I was always taught that gay people are evil".

"Do I look evil?".

Amber smiled softly and shook his head, "no but you're not just gay, you're Blaine".

"No one is just their sexuality Amber, no one is just who they love".

He nodded, "they always told me that homosexuals are whores of satan".

Blaine chuckled, "yeah when I came out to my mom, I said listen I'm a whore of satan and there's nothing I can do about it".

Amber laughed, "I'm sorry".

"You didn't understand", Blaine acknowledged, "and now you do".

"I'm going to go to bed", he blinked and let out a soft yawn before getting to his feet, "I hope you find your person Blaine".

"I hope to see you at the wedding", Blaine grinned.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world".


	6. To Hold Amber

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a little look into Blaine's past. Thank you for your kindness and support <3

Blaine breathed in deeply and pushed open the door, glancing quickly at Mike. He looked around at the room of adults, few smiling, most appearing nervous. Two of them were in tears.

Blaine nodded at them as he and Mike briskly took their seat.

The second he sat down, Blaine changed his mind and stood up in order to lean forward and shake the hand of Burt Hummel. He looked like a mechanic from Ohio and a man who hadn't slept in days.

Blaine sat back down and sighed.

"Right", a confident looking man in a dark navy suit stood up, "my name is Hiram, let's get started, shall we?".

 

*****

 

"Repeat those letters back to me now Amber", Will said calmly, "from the beginning".

"A . . B . . C D E . . F", he looked down at his hands, "H".

"Just one missing this time", Will pointed to the sheet of paper in front of him.

"G", Amber sighed, "it's G".

"Would you like to start again?".

He looked back reluctantly at the tutor.

"Try counting them out on your hands maybe".

"A . . B c D E . . . em, F G . . huh- H".

"Well done Amber", he smiled, "only five more today and then we'll have half of the alphabet done".

Amber groaned, this was not in any way as fun as Blaine had made it out to be.

"I'm serious, you're picking up on this really quickly".

"I'm nineteen", Amber mumbled, having picked up on the phrasing from Blaine.

"And this is your first lesson. Come on, just five more, you'll get them within the hour".

Amber nodded but sat up straight all the same, "okay".

"So we're on to I".

 

*****

 

"Hiram, with all due respect I'm not doing that".

The room erupted once more with opinions.

"Hey, hey, calm down", Blaine continued, "I'm not going to go on national television and speaking about Amber when he doesn't know who he is yet"

"Kurt", Burt said firmly yet quietly, "you mean Kurt"

"Yes, Mr Hummel, Kurt but he has asked me to refer to him as Amber as of right now".

"His name is Kurt".

"I don't care what his name is, I'm not comfortable with talking about him until he knows what's going on".

"I'm still confused as to why we can't tell him", a woman with blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun sighed as she fiddled with the pearls around her neck. Blaine knew her as the mother of Lucy Fabray.

"That was explained very clearly to you Mrs Fabray", Brody said, who appeared to be acting as the spokesperson for the representatives of all police and law departments.

"He-", Blaine hesitated, Burt's presence more clear to him than ever, "he doesn't remember anything about his life before the disappearance, they're hoping extensive therapy might help but we don't know".

"Why are they telling some journalist his psychiatric information and not his own father?", a loud man seated next to Burt called. Mike looked down at his notes and identified him as David Karofsky's father.

"His father has been updated on his psychiatric progress and will continue to be", Brody sighed, "but he trusts Blaine and that's who he's living with-".

"Why?".

"Because he asked to", Brody replied firmly, "he told us he wanted to remain with Blaine, alternative accommodation was offered and remains available however the boy is set on staying with Blaine, they're friends and I'd have to say that's a good thing. Either way, Kurt Hummel is an adult by national law".

"Why do we have to trust him?".

Blaine held a hand up to Brody and looked back towards the group, "you don't", he answered, "but I'm asking you too. We both are. Mike and I care about this case and while I'll admit we don't understand half of what you've been through, we want to help. As a team and as individuals, we've done extensive work with the police and have plenty of experience doing so. And as for me running into-, Kurt, well that can't be a total coincidence. My guess is that fate is on our side here".

He knew that they were reluctantly beginning to agree with him and even like him a little bit.

"Mr Chang, I'd like to speak with you about the interview tomorrow", Hiram added. Blaine and Mike smiled at each other.

"And I want to talk to Blaine", Burt said, "in private".

 

*****

 

"I'll check with Blaine but Friday should be fine", Amber smiled as Will packed away his belongings.

"Great, we'll get the alphabet finished within a week or so", Will said gladly.

"It's three so I'm guessing you guys are done", Sam called, opening the door, "Jesse made sandwiches if you're hungry?".

Amber thought about it, "I'm actually quite starving".

 

*****

 

"Yeah, I did. He's going to teach him how to read and write, that kind of thing. He's a super patient guy and I know he's really going to encourage Amber".

Burt actively chose to ignore the name that the pretentious looking, fidgety journalist standing in front of him referred to his son as, "he really can't read a word?".

"Not as it goes sir, no. I don't really understand myself how he made it across a couple of states without basic skills like that but he did".

"Is he-, well you've seen pictures of him, does he look like my boy?".

Blaine nodded, "I had no doubt when I saw the missing child pictures that that was him. He's barely changed facewise, hair's a little crazy", Blaine smiled sadly, "he looks like himself Mr Hummel, I promise you you'd recognise your son anywhere".

"I, uh, I spoke to that St James one, what's his name?".

"Jesse?".

"Yeah, they let me talk to him on the phone and I'll probably meet him soon enough. He's very lively. He said he reckons Kurt'll remember me eventually even just a little, he reckons he underwent some kind of therapy or whatever to force him to forget".

"I see", Blaine replied with a genuine interest accompanied with doubt. He suspected time might be at fault here as it so often was, "I really hope so, for both of you".

"So do I", Burt bit his lip, "but I just don't know how to tell him about his mother, if he remembers then she'll be in his mind as well".

Blaine had wondered where Amber's mother was.

"She died", Burt coughed, quickly shaking his head, "a good while ago. It's been just me for a long time".

"Oh", Blaine said in shock, "I'm so sorry to hear that sir, I really am", he paused, "at least you'll have him back".

"I hope so", Burt looked last Blaine as if he was thinking, no, reminiscing deeply about something, "if he remembers me".

 

*****

 

The water was warm across Amber's skin, now softer since he'd been here. He closed his eyes and sighed with relief as the shower poured over his body, encasing him with a glowing heat.

This was something Amber could get used to.

He had found a kind of oasis of warmth in Blaine's detached two-story suburban home styled with decor from what felt like a different time. He found a sense of safety in both his surroundings and the man he now shared them with, the man who appeared to be doing everything in his power to help.

Soapy water trickled through the shiny pink ridges that decorated his pale skin, distorting around the patterns that were his scars. Amber massaged the conditioner Jake had given him into his scalp. Such luxuries now felt so everyday.

He wondered if he'd ever have to go back and more so, if ever he would choose to. He had disobeyed, left those he loved most behind and committed the greatest sin possible of repeatedly stumbling and losing faith. If guilt didn't catch up to him, someone else might.

He watched as a steady stream slipped through the plughole and down the drain. Amber wondered where it went. He supposed he'd ask Blaine in the morning.

Meanwhile he'd have an early night, Blaine had informed him he would not return until nine or ten before showing him how to work the house phone if he wanted for anything and explaining that the woman next door is always home if ever he had any immediate troubles.

He was hoping tonight the thoughts would not slither into his dreams and corrupt them into nightmarish scenes of either hell or sectors of the life he used to lead.

 

*****

 

"So you're an accountant?".

"Yes", the man replied looking at his watch for at least the thirteenth time.

"That must be really. . . great", Blaine tried again.

"It's practical".

"I was never great with numbers, math was probably my worst subject. My teachers would be like, 'Blaine, pay attention, what's the answer to question six?' and I'd be like, 'um eight' because like what even is a surd, y'know?".

He nodded slowly, "yeah, I was, eh, I was pretty good at math".

"That would make sense".

Blaine picked up his fork and speared a piece of penne.

"Do you like italian food?".

"It's a little heavy for my taste", he replied.

"I get that, we had it a lot growing up. My mom is Italian and my dad's Filipino so it was usually one or the other".

"That's nice", he nodded.

"Where are your family from?".

"America".

"Okay then", Blaine bit his lip, "so do you, uh, have any questions for me?".

"You're in journalism?".

"Yeah", Blaine sat up a little excitedly, "you've probably read some of my pieces, I do a lot of investigative articles in the paper".

"I don't read papers, unless you're online?".

"Yeah occasionally we put some of the best pieces up".

"I don't recognise your name so probably not", he paused, "shouldn't they all be your best pieces?".

"I suppose".

Another silence fell across the table.

"Oh hold on, I think", the man lifted his phone, "it's my friend, there's been an accident".

Blaine thought he might burst into tears, "oh god, I hope everything's alright".

"Thank you so much for dinner, it was lovely", he stood up, taking out his wallet and leaving $40 on the table. Blaine didn't stop him.

"Yes it was, I'll text you".

"Thanks again, goodbye Blaine".

the man would not reply to his texts.

The second he was out of sight, Blaine put on his own coat and left his hope at the table, leaving the restaurant in shame. This was his seventeenth date in six months and the twelfth one to leave midway through. He had only managed two second dates and one had even told him they were moving to Australia immediately before bumping into him two weeks later in the Target stationary isle.

He gripped the steering wheel of his Chevrolet a little tighter than usual as he fought the tears forcing their way to the surface. He knew it was beginning, the long process of wondering what he could have done differently. The answer always seemed to fall on who he was as a person, why he had to talk so much and come across so awkward causing every man he even showed a little interest in to run a mile. It brought him back to every past relationship, first date and failed attempt at flirtation he'd ever had but most of all to the incomprehendable amount of rejection he'd experienced since the day he'd come out.

He closed his car door and locked it before heading inside the house. It was silent.

"Amber?", Blaine called quietly. He received no answer.

Blaine opened the door to the living room, sure enough surrounded by blankets was the younger brown haired boy asleep on the couch. He smiled and closed the door over again.

Blaine needed coffee. He dialled Mike's number on his way to the worn wooden kitchen so many failed dates had ended in.

"Afternoon Blainers", a cheery voice came from one end.

"Hi", he sighed, glad to hear a familiar friend.

"Little early isn't it? No rendezvous?".

"When have you ever known me to have a rendezvous and no, the accountant was a fail".

"Who wants to date an accountant anyway?".

"It's not working Mike".

"What's not working? You're twenty four years old, you're supposed to be having fun".

"I'm not though, it's easy for you to say with your hundred girls you can just call up and they'll come running. I can't even get a hookup".

"Of course you can, you're a good looking guy".

"I don't want a one night stand with someone I'll never speak to again Mike, I want something real. I've tried the single life, I've tried casual dating, it doesn't work for me".

"Just give it time", he replied softly, "you'll find someone".

"Having lived through the humiliation I have, I highly doubt that Michael, catch you later".

"Take care of yourself Blaine".

He listened to the sound that signified the end of the call. Then he burst into tears.

 

_A pair of sad honey coloured eyes with a touch of amber stared at a chocolate frosted cupcake with a single bright green candle sticking out of it, a flame dancing from where it stood upon the wick._

_"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear . . Blaine, happy birthday to me"._

_His phone vibrated on the table next to him._

**_Mike (8:03)_ **

**_Don't want to disturb your romance, just letting you know we're planning a get together tomorrow, sort of late bday celebration? Gang wanted to do it tonight but I explained you two were busy ;) have fun x_ **

_He reminded himself for the hundreth time not to cry before he heard a key in the door. Blaine blew out the candle quickly as the footsteps made their way to the kitchen._

_He turned around to face his very favourite person in the world or at least the one he loved the most._

_"What are you doing?"._

_"Nothing, I was just-", Blaine looked back at the cupcake and pushed his glasses up his nose, "eating"._

_"Do you put a candle in every cupcake you eat?"._

_"No, I-, it doesn't matter"._

_"You should really cut down on what you're eating, Blaine, it's not healthy to have so much sugar all the time"._

_"You're right", Blaine but his lip, "I'll just throw it out"._

_"Oh god, it's your birthday, isn't it?", he muttered, noting the candle._

_"No. I mean, yes, it is but it's really not important", he shook his head, throwing the cake into the rubbish bin"._

_"It totally slipped my mind, babe, I have enough to be worried about"._

_"I understand, you've been really busy at work, you work so hard . . for us. I should be grateful"._

_"I'm glad you feel that way"._

_"And we still have a few more hours, right?"._

_"Maybe an hour but I'm quite tired so I think I'll be having an early night. Now can you make me something to eat?"._

_"Of course"._

 

"Are you crying?".

Blaine jumped, "please don't scare me like that".

"I'm sorry", the boy whispered, "are you alright?".

Blaine sniffed, "yeah, I was just thinking about someone", he shook his head removed his glasses, "How was your first lesson?".

"You know, it's not essential we always talk about me".

"No", Blaine shook his head and smiled weakly, "I suppose it's not but I'd rather like to right now".

"It went well, I really like Will. He's kind".

"I'm glad".

"Blaine", he paused, "Jesse was explaining something to me about human contact".

"He was?", Blaine looked down.

"Yes", he said, "he said that it can make you feel better and how hugging someone can release some kind of thing that makes people feel joy".

"I see", Blaine listened carefully, "endorphins I suspect".

"It might cheer you up if I hug you".

"Do you want to hug me?".

Amber nodded and Blaine held out his arms before the boy whispered, "be gentle".

"Always", Blaine replied softly.

Amber snaked his arms around Blaine's torso as Blaine carefully wrapped his around the boy, resting them carefully on his back. Amber shivered before settling against him, "do you feel better?".

"Much".

They remained like this in the dim light of Blaine's kitchen for a long time, the boys head slowly falling against Blaine's chest.

"I can hear your heart beat".

"That's a good thing", Blaine smiled sadly, "it means I'm alive".

"Does mine sound like that?".

"Quite possibly".

"How do I find out?".

"Just listen", Blaine whispered. This felt like a moment he'd remember when he was old and semile and hanging on for something of his youth. An intimate moment with a person who had changed his life so exquisitely and to whom he owed a gratitude too prominent to seek.

He could not describe how it felt to hold the most remarkable boy he'd ever met in his arms, rarely had Blaine felt a connection like this with someone of such beauty and strength. To think of ever stepping away was painful. He needed this so badly and to leave behind a person that feels in this moment like a lifeline felt to Blaine like losing his ability to intake oxygen.

To hold Amber was pure alleviation and comfort and goodness.

Blaine hung on for a few minutes longer, as long as he could before he felt like he was taking advantage of Amber's caring ways"how about we go to bed?".

Amber stood back, "just promise me one thing".

Blaine blinked.

"Don't cry too much, Blaine, I'd hate to lose your smile".

 

 

That night Blaine dreamed of falling into a quiet blue ocean, reflective of a cerulean sky, the sound of waves crashing around him creating a sheer tranquility only found in people's minds at midnight.

An oceanic view very similar to a pair of eyes he quite often found himself lost within.

 

Amber's mind visited different places.

 

_"Amber, what happened?", Ruby whispered, her voice shaky as her and Emerald crept into the silent room._

_The boy stared down at the brash wooden floorboards, where scarlet droplets of his own blood fell._

_"It was father", he whispered, "don't worry. I was just learning"._

_"Learning?", Emerald asked._

_"From my mistakes. A man should not disobey his father who brings the truthful word of the Lord", Amber's hands were shaking as he picked his shirt up and pulled it onto his stinging skin, the burning sensation growing._

_"No, you must let us clean your wounds"._

_"I shall do it later, I'll clean them myself. Right now I shall wear them with shame. I have to repent"._

_"Surely that was repentance", Ruby whispered._

_"It's never enough", he replied before blinking hard and pulling himself together. He left both girls standing in confusion._

_The sunlight caught the calming orange stone that hung from a brushed leather string around his neck as he stepped out of the small house and into the sunset, blinking againat the harsh rays._

_Sapphire was sitting on the dry, sandy ground carving bar of soap with a handmde pocket knife whilst Opal spat sunflower seeds across the yard. Amber shoved his hands into his pockets and joined them._

_"It was bad, huh?", Sapphire asked, looking at him with a genuine sympathy before his eyes returned to the bar of carbolic soap._

_"It was always going to be bad for me"._

_Opal gave him a quick nod, "you'll be just fine"._

_Amber looked out across the desolate valley and shook his head, "it'll be the three of you, Amythest as well, just you wait and see"._

_"It's whoever the Lord chooses, not him"._

_Amber was shocked at Opal's streak of rebellion, "as I said, it will be the three of you"._

_"Maybe", Sapphire added, sticking his knife into the hard ground, "but as of now, we should get to worship and repent"._

_Amber often wonders when he'd comitted such sins._

He woke with a start hours later, drenched in sweat, which stung his exposed and sensitive damaged skin. He threw the blanket off and rushed silently to the bathroom where he turned the cold tap to freezing and splashed his face with water.

A dull and constant pain buried itself within him as he wondered what had become of the precious ones he cared for more than he could explain.

Amber liked to think of them as safe inside the stone against his chest where he stored his memories, just like Blaine said. He wished he could tell Blaine all about them.

Amber didn't know where any of this was going but he supposed just like what had been promised he would one day fulfill a destiny he did not deserve.

 

The waters in Blaine's mind grew more troubled until he jolted awake, lying for hours staring at the ceiling and wondering why he felt this way.

 


	7. When Nobody Knows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my apologies as to how long this update took, amber semantics smashed along eith my laptop so I've had to rewrite it. thank you guys x

"Ten children, ten months, four states, all disappear without a trace, never to be found . . until today. This evening we're joined by the father of one of these children, Hiram Berry and investigative journalist Michael Chang".

The camera panned to the smartly dressed man leaning on the desk.

"So Mr. berry, you're daughter Rachel disappeared at age six thirteen years ago? Tell us a little about what the past decade has been like for you?".

"To tell you the truth, the fight has never stopped. 4/10 is a group assembled of the parents of all the missing children. All of us have spent these thirteen years looking for our kids, searching anywhere and everywhere we even had the smallest lead. It got to the point where, of course we gathered and we spoke but nothing new ever came of it. We had no idea where to go".

"Was there any point where you thought the battle was hopeless, presumed your daughter would never come home alive?".

Hiram sighed, "it was always in the back of my mind, all of ours I think but no one wanted to admit it. They couldn't be gone forever, surely but for the past few years people don't even remember it happened".

"Which brings us to Mike Chang, where do you come into the story?".

Mike spoke with his usual confidence in these kinds of situations, "my partner and I wanted to investigate this story. When I first found it, I assumed it was unsolvable but I hoped maybe we could help spread the word again, make sure these children weren't forgotten so I brought the idea to my colleague".

"And how did you gain the first crucial lead?".

"Well he looked at one of the pictures and an estimate police sketch and turned to me and told me he knew who it was and sure enough, he did".

"One of the missing boys had shown up?".

"Yeah and he fit the bill, wouldn't tell us where he was from, who his family were, nothing".

"And that's when you contacted the police?".

"Of course, he was questioned but to little avail so a DNA test was performed and the data came out conclusive, this was him".

"Hiram", she threw her hands up in a way that told Blaine she was one for the dramatics, "what did you think when they informed you one of the missing children had been found?".

"We never really doubted that the disappearances were connected, the circumstances were so similar, they just had to be so we could hardly believe it honestly. I couldn't stop crying at first. After searching so long, we might actually see our baby girl again".

"Well that is all we have time for tonight. You can keep up with the search for the missing teenagers on their Twitter and Facebook page which are on the screen now.  
Please contact this number with any information that may be useful or your local police department. Hiram, Mike thank you so much for joining us. Here's Jack with all of your sports updates".

Blaine slipped out of the greenroom and into the uncomfortably warm hallway with LeRoy fast in his wake where they met Mike and Hiram along with one of the producers.

"Congratulations", Blaine said to Hiram quickly, "I must run actually".

"We were gonna go for coffee to discuss the piece".

"My apologies, something has cropped up with Amber but Mike will fill you both in".

"I will?", Mike smiled through gritted teeth.

"You will, I'll speak to you soon", Blaine smiled, adjusted his glasses and took off down the hall.

"He is in an interesting character, isn't he?", Hiram commented.

Leroy smiled at his husband, "I quite like him".

  
*****

"He what?", Blaine set his coffee mug down on the kitchen counter.

Jesse smiled, "he wants you to sit in on today's therapy, that's why I texted you".

"He does?".

"He really does, he wants you to know more but I'm not sure he quite knows how to tell you".

"So I just sit there?".

"Yes Blaine, I'm going to have to ask you not to interrupt unless he speaks to you or anything like that".

"I understand".

Blaine followed Jesse into his living room where Amber was sitting, legs crossed in an armchair. He looked up at Blaine, a blatant scarlet staining his cheeks.

Blaine smiled softly at him and silently took a seat on the couch.

Jesse began, "so Amber, we'll just treat this like every other session, no new rules apply and if you want Blaine to go, just tell us. He won't be offended, will you?".

"Not a bit".

"So Amber, you were telling me about when you got in trouble? Would you like to continue with that?".

The boy swallowed and glanced at Blaine before he looked over at the fireplace and began to speak.

  
_"Amber, don't go please, don't do it", Emerald hissed, "I'm asking you to stay"._

_"I can't, if he has to come and find me, I shall never be shown any mercy"._

_"You saw what happened last time and when Sapphire was caught-", she stopped herself, "anyway, you can't"._

_"I have to, just make sure Ruby's alright, mother was screaming at her earlier"._

  
"What happened then Amber, once you left?".

Amber continued to stare blankly at the wall. He opened his mouth again.

  
_Amber crossed the wide dusty yard, squinting in the harsh sunlight, he reached the stone building that was his unfortunate destination._

_He knocked on the huge wooden door of the building and entered, heart fluttering with the certainty of what was about to happen._

_"Come here", his father called as he continued up the narrow passageway, "into the back, he'll see you there"._

_"But father-"._

_"Don't speak back to me Amber, this is a matter for a man higher than myself"._

  
Blaine did not know what to do. Amber was concentrating on his ever prominent breathing, eyes closed, head bowed.

"Amber, do you want to keep talking?", Jesse asked carefully.

The boy opened his eyes quickly and blinked, shaking his head.

"Would you like Blaine to leave?".

Amber's eyes fell on Blaine as if he'd forgotten he was even in the room. He nodded, "and I want to stop talking about this".

Blaine stood up quickly and left as Jesse continued, "let's try to come back to now Amber".

Blaine closed the door behind him and raised into the kitchen, hiding himself away. He didn't quite understand why he was crying. Blaine knocked back the neglected remnants of his freezing cold coffee.

 

*****

Amber had been in the shower for almost forty five minutes. He was usually much more mindful. Blaine sat cross legged on his bed, laptop open beside him and a bunch of newspaper articles from the time the children went missing.

His eyes were drawn to a picture of Kitty Wilde. She was standing outside a brightly coloured building with flowers and rainbows painted across the area Blaine could see. He swore he recognised something about it. Something about the way it was designed stood out to him. He folded the corner and threw the pile of publications ti the floor as the shower shut off. Sometimes Amber said goodnight to him and he really couldn't risk him seeing them, the boy was incredibly silent in how he moved.

Beside him, Blaine's phone vibrated.

**From: Jesse :)  
(09:49)  
Hope he's alright, I'm going to call Dr. Abrams in the morning and talk to Amber about doing a physical. He told me what happened after you left. I'm sure once he agrees to an external physical, you'll be filled in. Talk to you soon :)**

Blaine frowned. What on earth did he mean by that?

"Blaine".

Blaine snapped his head to the side in surprise. Amber was standing silently in the doorway to his bedroom. Not only that, he was shirtless, wearing only cuffed pyjamas and the hard orange stone around his neck. Blaine almost fainted.

"Amber".

He looked at the floor.

"Come in".

"Blaine, I-", he stumbled on his words, shaking his head and letting thick, damp hair fall across his forehead, "well I'll just show you", he whispered and turned around.

Blaine's mouth fell involuntarily. The boys back was covered in scars and cuts and scabs, ridged pinkly in parts and patchy in others.

Amber turned around and pulled up the right leg of his pyjamas. His upper thigh was similarly marked. Amber gestured to the left as if to say it was the same.

"Amber", Blaine breathed, "I . .".

"Now understand how much I've sinned".

"What?".

"This is repentance Blaine".

Blaine blinked. He was friends with religious people, he knew loads of kids in high school who went to ceremonies and church and whatever else they did and this was not how any religion had ever been portrayed to him.

It made so much sense now, he was glad he'd called Sam and Jesse. Now more than ever Blaine Anderson believed they were working in the midst of a dangerous cult. Amber was his only lead.

"No Amber, that's, well-", he managed to pull himself to his feet, "that's cruelty", he whispered, reaching out and taking the boys soft hand, "that's violence and abuse", he trembled.

Amber looked at their intertwined hands, "why in the world can't you see it Blaine? I'm not a good person".

"Why? Because they told you that? Who Amber? Who did this to you? Your body, Amber who hurt you this way?".

"It's by the word of the Lord Blaine".

He knew that was a lie. He knew no religion insist people be scarred like this.

"Does it hurt?", Blaine let go of the boys hand.

"Sometimes".

"Amber, I don't know what to say".

"You don't have to say anything, I suppose I just wanted you to know who I am".

"Amber, this isn't who you are, this is so far from who you are. This is what other people have done to you".

"It's my fault".

"It's not. Don't say that, I don't know who told you that but I wish I knew what was going on inside your head. I wish you knew who I see you as", Blaine shook his head, "I wish you knew you were worth it. I don't understand Amber, I don't get why you look at yourself like a mistake when to me you're just everything that's good and right in my life right now", he continued breathlessly, "all you have to do is see your reflection in the mirror, you're perfect for christ's sake, I'm sorry my mom told me not to say that in front of religious people but I'm just confused as to why you're so blind to what you really are".

Amber didn't say anything but his hand went straight to the brushed leather string around his neck.

Blaine through his hands into the air mildly, "I don't get it"

"You're rambling again Blaine", he said softly.

Blaine chuckled sadly to himself, "of course I am".

"You don't like yourself very much either, do you?".

"It's not that", he sighed, "people don't tend to like me".

"Everyone likes you".

"In small doses maybe, apart from that my mom and Mike. At the office people just want stuff from me so that's why they're nice but it's rare people just want to be close to me".

"I want to be close to you".

"You shouldn't say things like that".

"How come?".

"Because I'm Blaine and I'm fifty percent nutella, fifty percent idiot and I get the wrong idea nine times out of ten and the majority of those times I'm clingy and exhausting and talk too much for my own good".

"I disagree".

"And I digress, when did this become about me?".

"When I asked for it to".

"I'm not important right now".

"You're important to me", Amber whispered, "you're all I have in this world in case you hadn't realised. I don't exactly know what's going on here but I know you all talk about me when I leave the room and I know I'm far from normal and all of this is a little crazy. But you're familiar and safe and I know when I see you're face that I'm supposed to be if that makes sense, that nothing is out of place".

The pang Blaine felt in his chest had grown into something much stronger, much more honest and deep and if he dwelled on it, he may just shatter so instead he blinked through the deafening silence and whispered, "Amber, I promise you you'll be fine, I promise I won't let a soul near you if they want to hurt you but most of all I'll be there and there will always be a place in this house for you".

Amber nodded, "will you tell me your story?".

"After you get some rest", Blaine replied softly and took the boys hand, leading him to his own bed rather than going to the guest bedroom. Amber let put a gentle sigh as Blaine held up the duvet for him to settle under. He then settled with his back against the bed frame next to the blue eyed boy and reached over to pull damp strands of brown hair from the pale skin of the boys face. Blaine switched off the lamp by his bed, filling the room with a sweet and honest darkness. He continued to run his fingertips occasionally through Amber's hair and occasionally across his skin. It did not take long for him to curl up under the covers and fall asleep.

When he woke up tomorrow, Blaine would tell him and then they would see Jesse and Dr Abrams about Amber's scars.

Meanwhile he would drift in and out of hazy consciousness and dream about a boy who was hurt against his wishes and held in his heart.

*****

When Blaine woke yet again the clock had hit seven and there was a bright pair of eyes staring back at him. Winter sunlight had crept through the crack in Blaine's curtains. Amber looked tired but happy, half covered by a duvet and half exposed to the glow of the room.

"I haven't slept that well in a long time".

Blaine grinned, "it helps to get things off your chest, to say them out loud I mean".

Amber nodded and then his expression changed, "Blaine?".

"Mmhmm?", Blaine grabbed his glasses from his bedside locker. He wiped his eyes quickly and yawned before placing them on his face.

"You said last night that you'd tell me something?".

"About me? You really care?".

Amber nodded. Blaine sighed.

"Everything", the boy sat up a little, "tell me everything".

Blaine looked down

"I grew up in the house I met you outside with my mom and my dad and my older brother Cooper. My dad was a lawyer and my mom was an artist which seems like an unlikely match", he smiled gently before remembering who was listening to this story, "so my dad like defended people in court when they did things that were against the law or he tried to prove they did it. Mom is mainly a painter but she can draw real well and she made a couple of sculptures. Cooper is an actor, he's doing pretty well right now. He lives in L.A".

"What's an actor?".

"Oh, y'know like when we watch TV shows? Well most of the time the people aren't real. They're real people playing characters. That's what he does. He plays pretend for a living. Anyway I love him a lot and I miss him every day but he's busy", Blaine smiled sadly.

"Anyway I started piano when I was five and I made it to grade eight when I was thirteen and that makes no sense to you but I'm really proud of it actually because, you know, it was something I was good at I suppose. Anyway I did pretty well in school, except I was hopeless at sports and not very many people liked me. Anyway when I was fifteen I couldn't really take the secret keeping anymore and so I came out. I told my family I was gay and they were fine with it, really fine with it so I guess I thought everyone might be and I didn't hide anything when I went into high school?".

"High school?".

"The final four years of school. And I actually made a few friends including Mike and this guy called Jackson and I may have had the teeniest little crush on Jackson. So when people on the football team started finding out about me, they'd call on me in the halls, shove me into lockers. Jackson was cool though and on the football team and he didn't do that. He was quite popular and that's why it shocked me so much when he asked me to prom which is like a big social event".

Blaine looked up to see just how bored Amber was and the answer was seemingly not at all.

"So we went and I wore my tuxedo that me and my mom picked out and you've never seen a man so excited", Blaine shook his head, "and then we danced together and I don't think my heart had ever been racing like that moment and then we went outside".

  
_"You look really good tonight Blaine"._

_Blaine was well aware that his cheeks were positively on fire, "so do you but you always do, god this still feels like a dream", Blaine shook his head and leaned back against the wall, "I've had a crush on you since the day I first met you"._

_"Well that's very flattering"._

_"I hope it doesn't end tonight, I hope we can keep going after tonight"._

_"You asking me out Anderson?"._

_Blaine smiled, "I'm begging you out actually"._

_"Sure, let's do it some time", Jackson smiled, "have you ever kissed someone Blaine?"._

_Blaine blushed again, "no"._

_Jackson nodded and looked intently and Blaine's lips before moving to his eyes and back to his lips again._

_"Just to clarify, you are gay, aren't you?"._

_Jackson smiled, "wondering why I had a girlfriend until last month?"._

_"I suppose I am"._

_Jackson laughed, "you sound like an eighty year old half the time, I'm bisexual Blaine"._

_"Oh. Oh, okay I see. I get it, that's cool. Good for you"._

_"Do you want to kiss me Blaine?"._

_"I don't know how", Blaine whispered breathlessly, "I really have no idea how to kiss someone, oh god, of course this would happen, I'm such a loser. And god, you're hot"._

_"Oh come on, don't be shy", Jackson placed his hand against the wall above Blaine's head and Blaine was going to just lean forward and do it until he heard the voices._

_"Hey faggot", a familiar voice shouted and Blaine knew it was Keith Jensen._

_"Getting busy, are we?", Michael Davids called._

_Blaine felt like someone had just punched him in the face with his dead cat after they speared it on a pitchfork, "oh god, I'm so sorry Jackson, I really am. They're talking to me, not you", he sounded positively terrified._

_"I know", Jackson smiled again but this time it wasn't sexy or cute or kind, it was sickly almost and it made Blaine shiver, "did you think I was a fag too Blaine? Did you think someone like me could ever be the way you are?", he stepped back._

_"W-what? I don't understand"._

_"I'm normal Blaine and you're a fucking joke"._

_"Jackie, this isn't fun, I-, come on guys, I don't-"._

_Why was he crying? God he felt like such an idiot._

_"Aw, is he crying?", Michael called, "fuckin' fairy"._

_Keith grabbed the collar of Blaine's shirt and shoved him harder against the wall. He was terrified. How had the greatest night of his life gone from such a perfect fairytale to this? He felt like such an imbecile, how on earth could he be so stupid?_

_He felt the brick wall hard against his back, scratching the material of the suit jacket he'd expected to show his kids one day in pure delight at the memories of tonight._

_But all of that escaped his mind as he fell to the ground and lost consciousness with each blow to his body. Eventually he stopped feeling._

 

"I was in hospital for weeks. Mike found me after Jackson came back in with Keith and Michael and he called an ambulance and met my parents at the hospital. The school wanted to suspend them but my father insisted we were pressing charges. Keith had to go to behavioural training and they all received alternative sanctions. Dad wanted to get a restraining order but I said no, a restraining order is when someone can't come within a certain distance of you so he moved me to Dalton Academy".

"Dalton Academy", Blaine repeated, "oh Amber, it was wonderful there. I boarded five days a week and came home on weekends. I joined their show choir and we sang and performed and I made so many friends. They were so amazing and every Friday night I'd go home and have dinner with my family. I liked to spend Saturdays with Mike and on a Sunday I mostly hung out with my parents again but I was happy".

"Then what happened?".

"I got into Northwestern here in Chicago and I did a journalism degree. In my first year I met another guy".

"And?".

"And I will finish this tonight but right now I should shower because Jesse is coming at nine and I need to shower".

"Okay", Amber said quietly and sat up, "it'll be okay today, won't it?".

"Listen, I'm going to call Artie or Doctor Abrams and ask if I can be there with you, if you'd rather that?".

"And Jesse?".

"And Jesse", Blaine confirmed, "you won't be by yourself and we'll work this out. Don't be ashamed Amber, this isn't your fault".

The boy nodded sadly, "I'll go get ready I suppose".

"This is really brave of you Amber, I mean that".

"It is?".

"You don't even realise how strong you are".

"I'm sorry about what happened to you Blaine, I truly am".

"You and I just have to remember one thing Amber, courage".

"Courage?".

"It's the ability to do something that frightens you, to have strength against pain".

"Courage, let's do courage together".

"Something tells me it will be easier that way".


	8. And You Said That It Was Alright

Blaine was tired. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and now that he’d promised Amber he’d tell him his story, thoughts of his past had been running around his brain relentlessly. Blaine didn’t like talking about the things that had gone wrong in his life, high school was only a small sector. Telling Amber about prom night was both a victory and something that made Blaine dislike himself even more than he had previously. It gave him a great deal of shame. 

 

He blinked at the ground. No amount of talking with Dr. Abrams would get him into that room.

 

“Don’t feel bad Blaine”, Jesse continued, “he gets it. There was nothing you could’ve done, they don’t let people in, that simple”.

 

Blaine nodded and continued staring at the pasty teal linoleum floor of the waiting room. 

 

His phone had been ringing all morning to the point where he’d simply turned it off. Whoever cared for the day that was in it.

 

“Amber”, Jesse said suddenly. Blaine looked up and Amber was standing at the door, he didn’t look mad to Blaine’s great relief but he didn’t look happy either. 

 

“We have to go back . . to um, to talk to Artie”.

 

They followed him down the hallway and Jesse instantly sat himself down on one of three chairs in the surgery, Amber dropped down in the middle and Blaine timidly took the final seat. He looked to the boy beside him and reached out a hand but Amber flinched away and kept his eyes on the floor.

 

“Right, so we do want everybody here?”, Artie looked, wide-eyed at Amber.

 

The blue eyed boy nodded, “yeah”.

 

“That’s not a problem, so we had a little look at you, didn’t we Amber and there’s some pretty bad damage done on the skin. I’ve come to the conclusion and explained that there will definitely be some pretty obvious scarring. The main goal as of right now is just to get those wounds healed and safe from infection. There’s some burn damage done as well and overall they’ve been pretty exposed to the sun, it looks like so I’m guessing that K-, sorry, that Amber isn’t the most comfortable right now. It looks quite painful but also itchy to me so I’d like to get him some relief on that. 

 

“I’ve cleaned all of the injuries, a lot of them really should’ve been taped or stapled or stitched but they’ve all scabbed by now so that’s come too late. We’re going to avoid baths and really try the shortest showers possible. I know, Amber that that probably provides relief for you but it will just make avoiding bacterial infections a little easier. So I’ve prescribed you a really strong antiseptic cream which you can apply with the instructions although if everybody is comfortable, it would be much easier for you to get a little help with that”.

 

“Amber, do you think Blaine could do that for you?”, Jesse suggested. 

 

Amber nodded.

 

“Blaine?”.

 

“Of course”, he confirmed quickly.

 

Blaine and Amber left minutes later leaving Jesse and Artie to discuss the boy's wellbeing.

 

“Shall we go home, you look a little exhausted?”.

 

Amber nodded. They drive in screaming silence through horrific traffic and pull up thirty minutes later outside Blaine’s two story house. 

 

Today Blaine notes the difference. Amber is not waiting for him, he’s treating this house like his own, trudging up to the front door and leaning against it lazily like a hormonal teenager which Blaine reminds himself, he practically is.

 

He realises he’s staring out the front window and suddenly Amber is glaring back. Blaine has to shake his head and try and wipe the grin off his face before rushing to open the door.

 

“Would you like anything?”.

 

“I’ll make myself a coffee”.

 

“I could do it”.

 

“No, I will. I can make myself a coffee Blaine. It is something I’m capable of doing alone”, he huffed and stormed towards the kitchen. Blaine sighs and is about to feel terribly sorry for himself until he hears a shout. He runs down the hallway after Amber.

 

The chestnut haired boy was standing in the doorway with his hands on his heart, “you frightened me”.

 

Blaine looks to the kitchen table where Mike is in fits of laughter, Mercedes is typing on her phone, Unique is telling Mike to ‘calm himself the hell down’, Tina is grinning and Puck's staring at the huge chocolate cake that sits in the middle of the wooden table. Blaine pushed his glasses up and read the great big ‘HAPPY 40TH BIRTHDAY’ iced in block capitals across it.

 

His head falls to his hands, “I’m twenty six Mike, twenty six”, he sighs and looks at Amber, “i swear I didn’t know about this”.

 

“It’s-, I’m fine”.

 

“He didn’t tell you, did he?”, Puck asks, “of course not, classic Blaine”.

 

“It’s your birthday?”, Amber asked.

 

“Yeah”, Blaine nods, “I suppose it is”.

“To be fair, I might have warned you had you not ignored my calls”, a now recovering Mike said, striking up a match and lighting the candles on the cake.

They start into the most ludicrous display of  _ Happy Birthday  _ Blaine has ever witnessed and he looks at the floor, fully aware that his cheeks are an unfortunately bright scarlet. He realises then that there’s a pair of shoes he must have missed. What on earth was Jeff doing her?

Blaine looks up at him awkwardly and smiles.

He beams right back.

Blaine quickly side eyed Amber who clearly had no idea what the hell was going on which was easily explained by the fact that never in his life had he celebrated a birthday.

By the time the ordeal finished, Mike was laughing again. Blaine felt like now would be a really good time for the floor to open up and swallow him. In fact, he willed it to.

“Go on then birthday boy, blow out your candles”, Mercedes quirks an eyebrow.

He does and the attention is thankfully stolen when Santana and Brittany walk through the door, “sorry we’re late”.

“It’s really fine”, Blaine muttered, “you guys didn’t have to”.

“Yes”, Tina sighed, “we did”, she holds out a medium takeaway cup, “I made you a medium drip for the occasion but I’d drink it quick, it’ll probably get cold soon”.

Blaine smiled gratefully, “I love you Tina Cohen-Chang”, he knocked it back in just a few gulps. What a morning.

“We’re taking you out tonight, even Jake and Bree are coming and you have absolutely no choice in the matter”.

Blaine frowned, “Mike, I-”.

“You nothing”, Mike grabbed his arm and pulled him into the hallway, closing off the noisy kitchen. He sighed, “you need a break”.

“It’s Amber”, Blaine hissed.

“What about him?”.

“He can’t-”.

“He can”.

 

“Mike, he’s never been out like that”.

“Blaine, he managed to get here, didn’t he? He managed to get to Chicago by himself, I think he can handle a night out”.

“He can’t drink”.

“You don’t have to drink, you rarely  do”.

“I don’t know”.

“So leave him here”.

“I’m not going to do that”.

“Well then quit being a killjoy, eat some fucking cake and put on your party hat”.

“Tell me you didn’t get party hats”.

“Couldn’t spare the dollar”, he said, pushing Blaine back through the kitchen door, “Amber, my very favourite teenage boy, I have a gift for you”.

Blaine frowned.

“My boss says no drinking but I got you a fake ID, you're coming out with us”, he said, digging a laminated card from his pocket, “you’re name is Jason Rogers if anyone asks, twenty one, Missouri”, Mike winked.

 

Amber opened his mouth but Mercedes grabbed his elbow to explain things further.

Blaine left the room to take an hour long call from his parents and apologise that he couldn’t make it out.

  
  
  


 

Blaine started the night smiling shyly and thanking people over and over again for bothering to leave the house for his sake. 

Then it all took a turn.

He started off saying he might have a beer and then another and then it escalated to a vodka and coke, a little more vodka, a lot less coke.

Then Blaine took the microphone and dragged Mercedes up to sing a song Amber now knew to be called ‘Don’t You Want Me?’.

Then he sat down and apparently got a lot more thirsty and before long, he had dragged Santana and Tina up to sing with him and before long a chorus of people were giving him enchores.

“What is a ‘womanizer’?”, Amber asked curiously as Blaine sung the lyrics dramatically.

Mike laughed, “as if Blaine would know”.

He never got an answer.

But he had discovered that beyond the cloudy drunken haze in the bar and the broken choreography, the man on that stage, all chocolate curls and honey eyes, was beautiful. His voice was beautiful. He was beautiful.

And Amber in no way understood nor could he possibly comprehend the way he was feeling inside, the way his heart skipped a beat when Blaine caught his eye.

“Is it hot in here or is it just me?”, he asked apprehensively.

“Are you alright?”, Santana asked.

“Fine”, Amber smiled honestly, “I’m fine”.

He meant it too. He felt normal, like this is where he was supposed to be because no one in that bar was judging him, not for the colourful way in which he looked or the sentences he spoke. They didn’t care. No one cared because they were having fun.

And so was Amber.

  
  


Once they finally left the karaoke bar or in Blaine's case, were dragged out they ended up in what Amber heard referred to as a club.

Blaine seemed to have a weakness for brightly coloured drinks in small glasses. Amber knocked back another Diet Coke while Mercedes and Santana screeched beside him about people he'd never heard of. He liked watching Blaine throw himself around a crowded dance floor while Puck and Bree apologised to people through fits of laughter. 

"Brittany and Mike", Amber said suddenly, "they're good dancers".

"I know", Santana smiled to herself, "they always have been, I'm okay, we all are except poor Blaine", she giggled, "but those two have a gift".

"Blaine's not that bad".

"When he's sober", Noah shouted over the music as he dropped down next to Amber.

"He's going to cause an injury ", Mercedes sighed and within minutes Blaine was being pulled away by Mike.

A comically serious expression crossed his features as he  sat down, "whose gonna be my wingman?".

"Not me", Puck laughed, "not this time".

"Amber? Amber, you'll do it right? You-, you're gonna-, I wanna get laid", he finally settled on the easiest sentence possible.

"Get laid? What is-?", Amber looked around confusedly.

"Poor Blaine is hungry for a little man on man action", Santana laughed.

"None of them want me and my ass looks good in these jeans".

"It does", Mike sighed, "they don't know what they're missing".

Blaine frowned and then his face suddenly swapped expressions, "you're right. They d-, they don't, fuck I'm a catch, I'm am-, I'm amaz-, zi-, I'm really fucking good in bed".

"Blaine you're not really in the state for it", Puck said, swallowing another gulp of beer.

"I'm fine, here", he got to his feet and stumbled slightly. Before tripping and landing in the arms of a tall blond guy.

"Woah be careful", the man smiled.

Blaine's eyes widened, "you".

"I?".

Mike ran over to help his friend, "I'm sorry, he's-".

"Horny", Blaine finished the sentence before turning to Mike, "he's hot".

"Heavily intoxicated", Mike corrected, "I always forget what a lightweight you are".

The guy nods understandingly at Mike before making a quick exit across the bar.

"I'll let you fuck me", he shouted, "please, anyone?".

"Alright, that's enough for you Blainers", Mike said hauling his friend back over to the others, "can someone get him a glass of water?".

"That's gonna hurt in the morning", Mercedes said dryly next to Amber and he wasn't entirely sure what she meant but she got the feeling Blaine was about to regret all those colourful drinks

  
  


And he was right, they got home at one in the morning. Mike helped Blaine to the bathroom where he violently vomited throughout the night. 

Amber didn't sleep.

The  sun was beginning to rise when he heard Blaine crying.

He was crouched with his head in his hands, back to the cold hard bathroom tile and now he was also crying, his small body racked with sobs.

"What is it?", Mike asked softly. He'd been with Blaine all night.

"I made a fucking fool of myself, didn't I?".

"Everyone gets drunk Blaine, it's okay to make a couple mistakes".

"I embarrassed myself Mike, why am I still surprised I can't get a guy".

"You will, Blaine just give it time. We're young".

"I'm not saying I want to get married  tomorrow , I just want a guy who likes me for me".

"I promise you you will find one".

"It's useless Mike, I literally begged someone to have sex with me, I have a hidden folder on my phone full of dating apps. I did all of it, I swipe right on everybody and call everybody back but the second the conversation runs over two minutes, they're out. I see it on their faces", he cried, "that look of 'how the fuck am I going to get out of this one?' and I just keep talking, trying to drown out the voice in my head telling me to just let them go".

"You have to give these things time and trust yourself. You don't want to end up in another relationship like the last".

"I won't".

"You might", Mike said quietly.

“Just shut up. I hate it. I hate this. I can’t get a guy anyway and when I do, they’re all wrong. It’s all wrong”.

“Not everything Blaine”.

 

“Not him”, Blaine said quietly and Amber edged nearer to make out the words that he spoke.

“Not who”.

“I’ve done it again Mike”.

“No”, Mike said softly, “it’s fine, you’re fine. Is it-?”.

“Shh”, Blaine shook his head, “yes”.

Mike said nothing.

“I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t come home to an empty house anymore, It doesn’t feel so lonely-”.

“Blaine-”.

Amber suddenly felt terribly intrusive. This wasn’t his business, these were Blaine’s feelings, they didn’t belong to him and so he went back to his room.

He could only hope Blaine was alright because he could not understand his emotions.

Meanwhile Blaine curled into himself against the cold hard tile of the bathroom, “it’s not how it used to be Mike, it’s different. It all feels different. Home feels different, better, like it’s mine or ours or whatever. I don’t know how to explain it”.

He coughed, new tears running down his dryly stained cheeks, itchy with the remnants of his distress.

“My bed is empty but my heart isn’t”.

  
  
  
  
  


Blaine woke up in late afternoon, not remembering how he got there but with texts from most of his friends.

He ran a hand through the tangle of unbrushed curls falling across his forehead. His mouth was uncomfortably dry.

Blaine ran to his bathroom which smelled strongly of bleach. Thank god for Mike Chang. He splashed a rush of cold water onto his face and threw his head back before he caught sight of a familiar reflection in the mirror.

He was a mess.

  
And not in a cute way. And of course his shower washed away just some of the shame but it also reminded and presented new memories of further embarrassment to him.

 

It was long after lunch by the time Blaine got downstairs.

He wasn’t hungry anyway.

Rain spattered against the windows. A tall, slender figure was perched on the sill in his sitting room, staring out through the glass.

Amber.

“Hey”, Blaine croaked.

“You’re up”, Amber replied softly, turning his gaze from the falling rain to Blaine.

“Rose from the dead”, Blaine answered with a gentle smile, “you need anything?”.

Amber shook his head, “I’m fine, Will and Jesse were around earlier anyway and I finally know the alphabet”.

Blaine grinned even though on the inside he was still broken up, his heart swelled with pride he could not comprehend, “wow Amber, that’s incredible, I’m so happy for you”.

The boy looked away sheepishly, “it’s nothing really”.

“It’s huge”, Blaine reassured him, “I’m proud of you”.

“You are?”.

“Of course I am”.

Amber sniffed and Blaine noted his fight to swallow, “have I upset you?”.

“No, not at all, you’ve-, well I’m overjoyed”.

“Can I have a hug?”.

Amber stood up without hesitation except this time, he wrapped his arms around Blaine, “you’re okay?”.

“I’ll be fine”, Blaine choked out, “I’m-, I always am. I have to be”.

“Not here, you can be anything you want to be here”.

“What?”.

“I’ve always just been scared or hiding or lonely but here, in this house you’ve made it okay for me to be whatever I really am. It’s safe and it’s home. We can just be us here, you and I. Maybe the decor is odd or certain rooms have a breeze, sure the floorboards creak and doors rattle when it’s stormy but it’s okay here, it’s all okay because in this house you can dream and see things differently and put the pieces back together”, Amber was beginning to sound distant but Blaine was so touched by now he felt like crying all over again.

“I’ll tell you”, Blaine said suddenly, “the rest of the story, I’ll tell you”.

Amber breathed inwards deeply and exhaled, “only if you want to”.

“I do”, Blaine pulled away as much as it pained him, “I really do”.

  
  
  
  


Amber sipped his tea, they were cross legged, sharing a quilt on Blaine’s oddly patterned sofa.

“In my first year of college, I met Ethan”, Blaine sighed, “he was perfect. I loved him more than anything I could possibly describe and at first, he told me he just wanted to be friends until one night at a party, he kissed me and I kissed back. It’s such a magical thing, to kiss someone you love. This fire ignites in your heart and you never want to stop.

“Ethan was the first guy I was ever with intimately, about four months in there was this moment on this night and we were ready to take that step. It wasn’t his first time but it was mine. He was so gentle and caring and it was so special”, Blaine looked up to make sure he wasn’t oversharing but Amber was listening with intent.

“And afterwards”, Blaine smiled with pure nostalgic glee, “he told me he loved me and I said it right back. God, it was straight out of a movie”

  
  


_ Blaine woke up in the early hours, sunlight streaming through the cracks in the blinds. His body was entangled in the warmth of another’s, fingers intertwined. Blaine could hear his lover’s heart beat. _

_ The words were still fresh in his ears, “I love you Blaine Anderson”. _

_ He smiled to himself before kissing the other man’s cheek gently. _

_ “Good morning”, Ethan murmured sleepily. _

_ “You’re awake”, Blaine whispered as Ethan’s eyes opened slowly. _

_ “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”. _

 

_ Blaine grinned at him, pressing his lips to the skin on Ethan’s neck. _

_ He lifted his head again. Bright green eyes stared back at him, so beautiful in the early light, “not so bad yourself”, he answered. _

_ “You up for round two before I make pancakes?”. _

_ “I love you”, Blaine couldn’t help himself. _

_ “I love you too Blaine”, Ethan affirmed softly, “now come on stud”. _

  
  


“I’ll spare you the details”, Blaine chuckled sadly, “but it was a whirlwind. He was so good to me Amber, anything was possible when I was with Ethan”.

“He sounds wonderful”.

“He was, I gave him my whole heart”.

“What happened?”.

Blaine looked out the window at the pouring rainfall, “life. He completed his degree before I did, performing arts. He was so talented, I knew anyone would want him in a heartbeat”, Blaine wiped away the tears that were forming beneath his eyes, “and they did”.

  
  


_ “Blaine this is huge for me, I have to go”. _

_ “I know that”, Blaine said, “I know but London, that’s not just states, that’s oceans. I need you”. _

_ “And I need this”. _

_ “You know all I’ve ever wanted for you is happiness Ethan and I know your success is so important. It’s just a lot”. _

_ “I know that Blaine, I do and I understand you’re vulnerable”. _

_ “I’m not vulnerable”. _

_ “We both know that’s not true baby, come on. You have to be honest with me”. _

_ “Fine. I don’t want you to go”. _

_ “I have to, I have to take this opportunity. It’s huge for me Blaine, it’s Les Mis”. _

_ “I know and I am so, so proud of you but it won’t be easy. Long distance relationships are difficult”. _

_ “Blaine-”. _

_ “We’ll have to work on it-”. _

_ “Blaine, just listen”, Ethan said firmly, “it won’t be a long distance relationship”. _

_ “What do you mean? Ethan, I love you but I have to complete my degree and then we’ll talk about me moving but I have to graduate first”. _

_ “No, I-”, he sighed, “Blaine, it’s more complicated than that. Those relationships never end well. They hurt people”. _

_ Suddenly the realisation of what he meant dawned on Blaine, “you’re not saying . . ?”. _

_ Ethan nodded, “I’m so sorry but I can’t do that to you, I love you too much and it wouldn’t be fair”. _

_ “Please”, Blaine grabbed his hands and took them in his own, “we can do this together. I know we can”. _

_ “I wish it was that simple but the world doesn’t work that way”, Ethan whispered, “you’ll have to let me go”. _

  
  
  


“I never saw him again”, Blaine ignored the tears that fell slowly down his cheeks, “he went to London. Mike made him block me on social media because I refused to block him and all I would ever do is stalk and pine for him”.

“Do you miss him?”.

“I miss how he made me feel”.

Amber nodded. He thought maybe he understood what Blaine meant. Rain was still falling at a steady pace outside, pattering gently against the glass.

“Shall I keep going?”.

“Please”.

Blaine nodded, “I got through college with few other bumps in the road, it was a few weeks before my graduation that I met Tom. I was scared, you know, I had no job lined up. Mike did. It seemed like everyone did. I met Tom in a bar I went to alone one night. He was older, thirty three at the time and I was twenty one. He charmed the pants off me, literally. He got me into bed on the first night.

“I felt good about myself with him too. He made me happy. We moved fast, really fast. I asked him to meet my parents on graduation but he said no, he said he wasn’t free and that we could have our own little celebration that night. Mike and I got out degrees and we went to dinner with both of our parents and then we went to a party but I left early to see Tom.

“After that he showered me with gifts, it was too much, all these designer clothes and tailored suits, leather shoes, watches, other stuff. I just thought he wanted to treat me right. I was excited. My job at the time didn’t pay well, I couldn’t get into journalism like Mike had so I was working at this coffee place, where I met Puck and Tina. 

“It didn’t pay amazingly well and eventually Tom asked me t move in with him, or rather he told me”.

  
  
  


_ “Blaine this apartment isn’t good enough for you”. _

_ “It’s fine, I like it here, I really do”. _

_ “No, it’s not baby, it’s ugly and rundown and old”. _

_ “I like it here”, Blaine repeated quietly. _

_ “I hate it, don’t you want me to be comfortable?”. _

_ “Of course I do”. _

_ “I don’t feel safe here, you’re going to have to make some kind of decision”. _

_ “But I can’t afford anything better”, he added helplessly, “this is the best I can get”. _

_ “You’re better than that coffee shop”. _

_ “It’s all I can get”. _

_ “Move in with me”. _

_ “What?”. _

_ “Move in with me Blaine, we’re ready”. _

_ “No, I mean, I don’t know”, Blaine expressed, flustered now, “I’m not sure if I’m ready”. _

_ “Don’t you love me?”. _

_ “Of course I love you, you know I do, I love you so much”. _

 

_ “So take this step, prove it”. _

  
  
  


“It should’ve been a sign”, Blaine fidgeted, “the second someone asks you to prove your love, the second they can’t just take your word. It was possessive and much too fast”

He paused.

“So I did, I moved into his house and for a couple of months, it was fine. He started staying out a lot after a while. I did everything because I thought he was losing interest. I couldn’t give him fancy things like he gave me, I didn’t have the money so I felt like I had to give him other things. I know what you’re thinking . . . or maybe I don’t. At first I just got home as quickly as possible and cooked and I would clean the house and I saved up my money for ages to give him the best birthday I could.

“Mike thought something was weird about it. He got so desperate that he begged the paper to give me a job and then I got a call from Santana. I was so happy, overjoyed and he smiled but all he really wanted was celebration sex. I didn’t even call my parents first because I had to make him happy.

  
“I used sex to do that, we both did. If he was distant I always knew sex would cheer him up. It was so wrong Amber, that’s not what things like that are for. It’s not healthy. He was still staying out past work hours and a part of me knew why”, Blaine said sadly, “I never felt good enough in that relationship. I never was. He promised me so much, that things were hard right now but they’d get better soon. Of course, being stupid and naive and in, what I thought was love, I believed him. He forgot my birthday. We’d been together months, maybe six or seven. That’s still honey moon period. Anyway he stayed out and forgot.

“I was up all night. I couldn’t sleep. I knew there was someone else, maybe more. So in the morning I confronted him”.

  
  
  


_ “Who is it?”, Blaine shouted, “I know I’m not the only one”. _

_ “You’re paranoid Blaine”. _

_ “I’m not paranoid and I didn’t sit alone all day on my birthday to be lied to”. _

_ “No, it was because you couldn’t get a better offer”. _

_ “Fuck you”. _

_ “Blaine calm down, you’re being crazy”. _

 

_ “Because you’re driving me crazy”, Blaine was dragging his fingers through his hair. He felt like scratching his eyes out, “I can’t think straight”. _

_ “You’re paranoid, just like I said. I don’t know why I put up with you”. _

_ “What the hell does that mean?”. _

_ “It means you’re difficult and you’re young and you don’t understand how the world works”. _

_ “I don’t understand why you’re fucking somebody else”. _

_ It hit him like a bucket full of freezing shards of cutting ice. Tom’s hand across his cheeks. _

_ It stung. _

  
  
  


“That’s what I remember”, Blaine croaked, “it stung. It burned, not just externally. It changed everything. I knew it was wrong. I knew I should end it”, he sobbed, “but I went to work and I came home and for once he was there. He made dinner. He didn’t apologise but he acted like he had when I’d met him and I figured that was the bad patch. That was it”.

Amber was listening.

“But it wasn’t”, he wiped his eyes again, knowing it had become a pointless act, “it was the beginning of something so much worse. Because now he realised that he could get away with it, that I would stay. He never hit my face again. It didn’t bruise the first time but he knew he wouldn’t be so lucky again. He still hit me sometimes but on my arms, my legs, my chest. He covered it up . . . and so did I”.

“Blaine I’m so sorry”.

Blaine shook his head, “It went on for months. Every time I made a mistake or questioned him, he was angry. You don’t realise it when it’s happening. I’d seen it on movies and TV shows my whole life and those awareness commercials but it’s so different when it’s you. Every last thing was my fault”, Blaine paused for a few moments, “and it only got worse.

 

"Until one day I just couldn't take it anymore".

  
  
  


_ “You trudge around like a lost puppy Blaine, just get a life”, Tom shouted. _

_ Blaine stood there and took it. Just took it. _

_ “You don’t even realise, it’s painful to watch you waste your life and everything I give you”. _

_ He stared at the cold hard kitchen tiles and so much of him just desired to dissolve into them. _

_ “What is that?”, Blaine said quietly and without thinking. _

_ “Excuse me”. _

_ And it was like every bit of him just gave in. What the hell did he have to lose? _

_ “What is it that you give me? Bruises?”. _

_ “Shut up Blaine”. _

_ “Yeah you keep telling me to do that”, Blaine continued, “and I’m getting pretty tired of it”. _

_ “You’re tired? I-”. _

_ “Work your ass off?”, Blaine interrupted quietly, “put in all those extra hours to build a future I don’t want anymore?”. _

_ Tom just stared back at him, stunned. Blaine wasn’t scared anymore. _

_ “Or is it all those other guys you fuck? All those smiles you fake and lies you tell?”. _

_ Blaine folded his arms and shrugged, “or maybe it’s all those swings you take at me, the punches you throw, the insults? It must be tiring to break someone down like this?”. _

_ “Blaine, watch yourself”. _

_ “I do, every single day I’m scared of what shit you’ll throw at me next and I’m tired”. _

_ “I’m warning you”. _

_ “What are you gonna do big guy, huh? Hit me?”. _

_ Blaine didn’t miss the plate he picked up and fired across the room. He ducked and it smashed against the wall behind him, shards of broken china falling like rubble to the tiles around him.  _

_ Blaine stood up and took his mobile out of his pocket. _

_ “You realise I’m twenty two years old”, Blaine said, “you’re thirty seven Tom. Compared to you, I thought I was nothing. You’re nothing but a coward, a loser. I’m so much stronger now than you ever will be”. _

 

_ “I’m kicking you out”, Tom shouted in defense but his voice was cracking now. _

_ “And I’m pressing charges”, Blaine lifted his phone to his ear calmly, “Hi, my name is Blaine Anderson. I’m at Beverly on the South Side, number 12 on Cedar Lane. I’d like to report an instance of repeated domestic violence . . . my boyfriend Tom Rainor . . . yes . . . I will do that . . . thank you”. _

_ Blaine hung up and walked through the remnants of the smashed dinner plate and past Tom. _

_ “Where are you going?”. _

_ “Outside”. _

_ “Blaine, it’s snowing”. _

_ “I’ve put up with this for over a year and a half. That won’t stop me”. _

_ “Where are you going?”. _

_ “I’m going to stand outside for the fifteen minutes it takes the police to get here. I was instructed to put myself in a safe environment for the time being”. _

_ “It’s safe inside”. _

_ “I’m not safe with you”, Blaine wrapped his arms around himself. He might be freezing but he was free. _

  
  
  


"They arrested him. I moved in with Mike until two years ago I had the money for this place. I fell in love with it, I still don't know why", Blaine managed a smile, "I didn't hear from him again. It's just me in a stupid house I don't need and sure it gets lonely but like you said, it's safe. It's home".

 

Amber nodded, "if it counts for anything, I think you're brave".

 

"You do?".

 

"Of course I do".

 

"It means the world to me".

 

"Are you alright?".

 

Blaine nodded, "it hurts to think about, that's all but I know it's over. I did a lot of therapy too, you know".

 

"What I do with Jesse?".

 

"Yeah, it's pretty normal".

 

"Did it help you?".

 

"A lot".

 

Amber nodded.

 

"Shall we just stay here?", Blaine asked.

 

"If you order Chinese again?".

 

Blaine smiled.

 

Maybe rain pounded against the window all evening and long into the night but he did not care to notice. He cared about Amber in the glow of the fire light. He cared about stories and lyrics like cinders, raining reminders of something he'd lost. He cared about feeling this way. He forgot that nothing lasts forever. He forgot how burned out all those stupid, heartless boys had left him.

Something ignited within Blaine's heart, leaving him unafraid to fall this time. 

He was on fire.


End file.
